


Tell Me It's Okay To Think Of You And Me

by DynamicDuo (XylB)



Series: When Your Heart Beats Next To Mine [1]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, NOT batcest, PWP that got out of hand, Trans Male Character, Trans Wally West, Two of them!, brief Wally/OC, one night stand Wally/Roy/Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28149705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylB/pseuds/DynamicDuo
Summary: "So, what's a place like you doing in a guy like this?" Max asks, his grin charmingly crooked."I think the fact my best friend has assigned himself my wingman makes it pretty obvious why I'm here," Wally replies, raising an eyebrow. "I'm usually a wine-and-dine type.""Hey, I'm picking up what you're putting down," Max says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I ain't looking for a marriage proposal either.""But," he says, cocking his eyebrows at Wally, "I would like to get to know you a bit first.""I'm an open book."--Or: the one where Wally's running out of distractions, Dick can't stop thinking aboutwhat ifs, and Roy and Jason play Cupid
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Series: When Your Heart Beats Next To Mine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062161
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do not interact if you ship Batcest.

"You're pathetic." 

Wally sighs and spares Roy a glance before fixating on the scene across the room again. Which is, namely, Dick draped across Kori's lap, laughing with her about a conversation Wally can't overhear all the way over here, fingers playing with the longer ends of her hair while she giggles and rubs a thumb over his knuckles and kisses his cheek. It's sweet, but Wally's - yeah, Roy's right, he's pathetic. 

But Roy doesn't mean it unkindly - more like a fond scoff, a shake of his head as he glances at the couple over his shoulder and then at Wally. 

"Shut up," Wally mumbles, shifting on the barstool. His phone lays dark in front of him, the screen automatically locked from how long he was distracted. 

"Dude, you have _got_ to do something about this," Roy says, gesturing over his shoulder. 

"What _am_ I supposed to do?" Wally asks, just a little bitterly. 

"Tell him." 

Wally rolls his eyes. Roy may be playing it serious, but there's no way Wally's just gonna go up and - 

"He's my best friend," he says. " _And_ our leader." He folds his elbows in and leans over the counter. "I don't want to fuck that up, _Roy_." 

Roy scoffs. "Okay, first of all, he hasn't been the _leader_ in months. We don't _have_ a leader." 

"Still." Wally sinks back onto the stool. "He was our leader. I don't want to mess up the whole - dynamic." 

"Second of all," Roy continues, holding up a finger. "Kori is also his best friend, and she clearly wasn't worried about messing up the "dynamic"." 

"Yeah, well, it's different." 

"How?" Roy is one of his best friends, but he's also fucking _infuriating_ when he wants to be. So instead of anything reasonable, or calm, Wally spits out the first horrible thing on his mind. 

"For _one_ , I don't even know if he _likes_ guys," he bites out. There was Barbara, and now there's Kori, and Wally's certainly never seen any indication of - 

Roy laughs. _Laughs_. 

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he swings both ways," he says through his conspiratorial snickering, like he knows something Wally doesn't. Wally sighs.

"I'll bite. How sure?" 

The grin Roy's been trying to suppress breaks out full-force. "He dated Garth a couple years ago." 

Wally's head spins. "He - _what_?" He had no clue about this, and Dick's his friend, surely he would have - 

"They kept real quiet," Roy says, holding up a placating hand, like he can tell where Wally's forlorn thoughts are heading. "I only found out because I walked in on them once." 

Wally's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. With effort, he swallows back any of his stupid intrusive questions and forcibly relaxes against the counter. 

"Do you know...why they broke up?" He asks quietly. So quietly he's not sure Roy even heard him at first, and he opens his mouth to repeat the question when Roy interrupts. 

"Mutual," he says. "Just went back to being friends." 

Wally glances up at him. "And how do _you_ know this?" 

Roy's jaw works in a circle, like he's chewing gum. Uncertainty. 

"Garth told me," he says carefully. Shrugs. 

Wally squints. Roy's good friends with Garth, definitely, and he knows they hang out outside of the tower as well, if they end up in the same place, but there's something about his answer that doesn't strike Wally as quite the full truth. 

"Okay, fine, because I dated him afterwards," Roy admits. "Now quit looking at me like that." 

Garth and _Roy_? What the fuck is this hidden Titans dating pool, and how has Wally _missed_ it? 

"What the fuck?" It's more of an exclamation than a question. 

"Hey, you were busy running around with Barry then," Roy says, jabbing a finger at him. "And we weren't exactly publicising it." 

"Any other couples I missed out on?" Wally asks. He's only half-joking. 

Roy tilts his head in thought. "Donna and Lilith had a few flings. I think Garth was invited to a couple." He taps his fingers against the counter. "Oh, and Kori and I had a one night stand, once - " 

"Jesus Christ," Wally groans, holding his head in his hands. 

"Anyway," Roy says, making a circling motion with his finger, "Dick's definitely into guys as well." 

"Well he's not into _me_ ," Wally says. Roy stays strangely silent, and when Wally lifts his head, he sees Roy looking over his shoulder at the happy couple sprawled across the sofa. 

"I think you should still try," he replies eventually, turning back to Wally. "You never know." 

"No. Not in a million years." 

\-- 

"Maybe I _should_ tell him," Wally muses, spinning an empty glass on the table. "Then I'd get kicked off the team, and I wouldn't ever have to _see_ him again - " 

"Don't be stupid," Roy snorts. "We wouldn't kick you for _that_." 

"You will if it fucks up the dynamic," Wally says, pointing a finger at him. He's feeling a lot less generous and a lot more miserable today after a meeting between his right hand and his dick last night where he tried his level best to _not_ think of Dick and failed spectacularly. 

"You pining over Dick isn't gonna fuck anything up," Roy says, pouring a new can of Sprite into his glass. "Well, except _you_ \- did you even get any sleep last night, man?" 

"No," Wally grumbles. And it's late _now_ , just him and Roy at the kitchen table because everyone else is either out on a mission - Garth and Donna - or a _date_ \- Dick and Kori - or went to sleep ages ago because of a powers-induced migraine - Lilith. Maybe the force of Wally's misery is too much for the tower. 

Concern softens the edges of Roy's mouth. 

"Walls, if you need to talk - " he starts, but Wally cuts him off with a sharp shake of his head. 

"I'm fine," he insists, and scrubs a hand over his face. "I just need to - forget about him. Move on." He sighs. "Meet someone else." Although that's stupidly hard to do in the superhero community - the only consistent friends he has are the Titans, and the only extended families he really knows well enough apart from his own are the Waynes and the Arrows, and he tried with Linda but it just never really worked out, and - 

" - try it." 

Wally snaps out of his head with a blink to find Roy frowning at him, his hand paused in its waving. 

"Christ, you need sleep," Roy says, gently pulling the empty glass out of Wally's fingers. "Did you even hear what I said?" 

Wally shakes his head. Fatigue prods at the corners of his mind, but he's not exactly looking forward to another restless, fitful night. 

"I said we could always try going out," Roy repeats. "Go to the _Jazz_ , maybe see if you meet anyone." 

"I don't want to date a civilian again." Wally rubs his temple. 

"I'm not saying _date_. I'm saying have a little fun. One night." Roy grins. "I'll even let you use my place." 

Wally snorts. But maybe it _would_ be a good idea to get some stress relief. A one night stand can't _hurt_. 

"Fuck it, okay," he sighs. "When?" 

"How's Friday sound? Just you and me." 

\-- 

Friday finds Wally leaning at a black-granite bar counter at the _Jazz_ nightclub. Currently, he's carefully nursing a beer, his third one of the night, and trying to look as casual as possible while Roy chats with two guys down the other end of the bar. Wally shifts in his spot, idly checking out the other patrons. So far, he hasn't had much luck in random traded glances and eye contact, so Roy had taken it upon himself as Wally's self-proclaimed wingman to try and score _for_ him. 

Really, a lot of the night's choices had been Roy, from _Jazz_ to Wally's clothing. The jeans were Wally's choice, comfortably loose but still flattering, but the shirt was Roy's. It's fitted in the shoulders and falls straight over his middle, and Roy says it does him favours, and Wally's not exactly inclined to disbelieve the man. Roy has taste, for as much as he pretends otherwise. 

Just then, Roy gestures to him across the bar, pointing him out to the pair he's talking to. A man with blue hair and a tattoo sleeve gives Wally a smile and a wave, but the other guy's eyes stay on Roy. Wally lifts his drink and nods back, letting his eyes drift down the guy and back up. 

He sees him nod and trade a few more words with Roy - then something odd happens, with Roy shaking his head and shrugging, and the blue-haired guy's friend backs off of Roy. Wally frowns, but doesn't have room to question when Roy starts leading them over, weaving through the crowd to pop up beside him at the bar. 

"Hey," Roy says, smiling brightly. "Hope I didn't leave you too long. This is Zach," he gestures to the friend, "and Max." Blue-haired guy. Roy's smile slants just a little wicked. "I've been telling them about you." 

"Hi," Wally says, flashes Max a smile as he holds out a hand to shake. "I'm Wally." 

"Wally," Max repeats, like he's rolling the name around on his tongue. "I like it." 

"Thanks." _I picked it myself_ , he wants to joke, but that's the other thing about trying to score in a public bar. He's got to cross _that_ hurdle. 

"Hey Zach, you wanna leave these two and see if we can't find you a hot date?" Roy asks, raking a hand through his dishevelled hair. Zach laughs. 

"Man, you don't gotta make up for anything," he says, and Roy shrugs. 

"Maybe I want to," he answers, and jerks his head to the dance floor. "You wanna?" 

Zach looks out at the sea of people and cracks a smile, holding out a hand to Roy. 

"Lead the way." 

They disappear into the crush of pulsing, neon lights and loud people, leaving Wally alone with Max at the bar. Max flags down a waiter for a drink order and then turns to face Wally with a smile. 

"So, what's a place like you doing in a guy like this?" He asks, and Wally can't help his answering snort of laughter. Max grins, charmingly crooked. 

"I think the fact my best friend has assigned himself my wingman makes it pretty obvious why I'm here," Wally replies, raising an eyebrow. "I'm usually a wine-and-dine type." When it comes to people he actually wants a full relationship with. 

"Hey, I'm picking up what you're putting down," Max says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I ain't looking for a marriage proposal either." The bartender sets down his order and after Max pays, he settles in on an elbow. 

"But," he says, cocking his eyebrows at Wally, "I would like to get to know you a bit first." 

"I'm an open book," Wally says, and takes a sip of his drink. 

Talking with Max is actually surprisingly _easy_. He's cheerful, and friendly, and the tattoos on his left arm are entirely of forest animals, which Wally would find endearing if he was considering pursuing anything more than a one night stand. But he's not exactly hyped to date a civilian again, not after Linda, so he sticks to safe, easy topics for himself - vague friends, funny school incidents, diluted work stories. Together, they get through another round of drinks, and Wally is actually, genuinely, _enjoying_ himself. 

That said, he is also on a bit of a mission to get his dick focused on anything else but, well, _Dick_. As time passes, he can't help but stare at the way Max purses his lips around his straw to suck, and he's not missing the look Max shoots his way with that move as well, playful and flirtatious all at once. Wally runs a thumb around the rim of his glass, rubs his lower lip, watches Max's eyes stray and refocus. He doesn't realise how close they are until Max sets his empty glass down and speaks, his breath puffing gently against Wally's lips. 

"You wanna take this to a bathroom?" Max asks, low and velvety. 

"God yes," Wally answers, and lets Max circle a hand around his wrist and lead him to a single stall bathroom. 

He had long lost the overwhelming fear of being trapped in close quarters with a complete stranger probably minutes away from finding out he's trans; with the speed, and the Titans trainings, Wally probably knows more disarming moves off the top of his head than Max has tattoos, and judging by the spill of ink underneath the hem of his tank top, there's a _lot_ of tattoos. 

Still, Wally doesn't say anything when he locks the door behind them and tugs Max in against him, pinning himself between Max and the door. Max tastes like his pink drink and faintly of cherry and he kisses _good_. He's handsy, too, over Wally's sides and Wally's hips and - _oh_ , yeah, that's definitely a boner pressing against Wally's hip, and he's suddenly, abruptly glad he's wearing a firmer packer tonight. Maybe he can play it off for a little longer. 

Max has a tongue piercing, Wally finds out about halfway through the next messy kiss. He fists his hands in Max's shirt and pulls him closer, pulls him tight, reciprocates the thigh between his legs and lets Max hear a quiet, gasped moan from him. 

"Fuck," Max gasps, and clutches tighter at his sides. His hips roll down in a matching, enticing rhythm, rubbing himself against Wally's thigh in a filthy, thrilling display. Wally had almost forgotten how _fun_ this was, didn't even know he had this itch until he was scratching it, and fuck, Max's giving as good as he gets, pressing up between Wally's legs and rendering him weak all over. 

There's a hand in his hair, and lips on his jaw, and Wally thunks his head back against the door to moan again, all his nerves lighting up stark when teeth scrape over sensitive skin. Max laughs, low and dirty, and repeats the move. Wally throbs in his underwear, and he _really_ needs to start thinking of ways to break this to Max. 

He settles for his usual method: quick and straightforward and ready to bolt if Max doesn't take it too kindly. 

" _Please_ tell me you have another condom," Max murmurs against his pulse. 

"Max, wait," Wally pants, tugging at Max's hair. "Wait, there's something I have to tell you." 

Max does pull back, and lifts his head to look Wally in the eyes. 

"If you're about to tell me you're married, you chose some _really_ shit timing, man," he says. Wally huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. 

"Nothing like that," he promises. "I'm still painfully single." 

"Then what?" Max waits patiently while Wally sucks in a breath. He really does hate explaining this to people. 

"I'm trans," he says. "Transgender. It means I don't - I have - " 

Max's shoulders relax again. "I know what it means." He gives Wally an easy smile. "That's cool." 

Wally sighs in relief. "Then yeah, I got a condom. You're not fucking me, though." 

"I didn't want to," Max says, and goes right back to kissing down Wally's neck. "I wanted to suck your dick, although I guess a condom doesn't really work for that - " 

"I can make it work," Wally pants. " _Fuck_ , I can - give it here." 

Max reaches around to his back pocket and pulls out a foil packet - Wally rips it open with his teeth and then clumsily tears the condom down one side, spreading it flat and pressing it into Max's hand. 

"Fuck," Max mutters, and kisses him square on the mouth. "You're all fuckin' kinds of hot, you know that?" 

"Speak for yourself," Wally murmurs against his bottom lip. Max presses him into the door and sinks to his knees seconds later, hands already at Wally's button and fly. 

" _God_ ," Wally breathes. He cards a hand into dark blue hair and slumps to give Max a little more room, although it's not long before Max has his jeans open and underwear down, the packer tangled in them somewhere. 

Max presses the makeshift dam over Wally and then pauses, as if considering something. 

"Max?" Wally asks. Max shakes his head and looks up at him. 

"All right, I'm just gonna ask," he says. "What can I touch?" 

"Just - " Wally reaches down to take his dick between forefinger and thumb and give himself a stroke, " - here." 

"Got it." 

Wally removes his hand for Max to flatten the latex over him, and then promptly groans when Max licks his cock through it. 

"That good?" 

" _Anything_ 's good, Max," Wally promises. Max chuckles against him and then pushes his tongue up to Wally once more. 

Max is clumsy at it, as Wally expects, but it's good enough to encourage him to roll his hips up, against Max's hands where they hold the condom down, against his warm, very _insistent_ tongue. He mostly licks and rubs at him, not enough room to suck, and Wally hasn't gotten off properly in so fucking long it's embarrassing how quickly he starts coughing out a moan and tightening his fingers in Max's hair. Then there's the moment when Max slides the piercing over him, and Wally thinks he might just see god in that flash of time. 

"Fuck, again, do that again," he pants, and Max obliges with a hum, undulating the piercing into him repeatedly in these _maddening_ pulses. He glances down again at the dark head bobbing on him, and in the fluorescents, the blue shines black in the highlights, and Max's eyes are a playful, searing blue - 

Wally shuts his eyes against the images of Dick that threaten to surface and tries to focus on the impending orgasm shaking through his thighs, the one that _Max_ is giving him, the one that _Max_ has caused - 

Max groans against him and Wally can't help but think about how much like Dick it sounds. It's like his stupid shower fantasies all over again, like Dick on his knees and Dick touching him and - and Dick's dating Kori, Dick's _so_ not available - 

The next drag of Max's tongue punches the air out of Wally's lungs, but his mood is already ruined by the desperate, stupid thoughts of things he can't have. He _feels_ the physical pleasure, and it's definitely nice, but his mind is just not on the right track. Instead of glancing down at Max and feeling aroused, all he feels is a little pathetic, getting a blowjob in a public bathroom with someone he'll never see again to get over someone he can't _stop_ seeing. 

The worst thing is, he doesn't want to disappoint Max. He's fucking giving his all down there, and he's clearly enjoying getting Wally to the edge - unfortunately, it's an edge that feels miles away to Wally, so fucking desperate to clear his head from all his shit that it's now impeding his ability to _have sex_. He can feel instantly that, once again, he's gone too fast, too needy, not paying attention to the build-up his body wants. 

Max groans against him, and Wally consciously tenses his thighs to make them tremble. He's faked it before, he can do it again, and he chokes out Max's name in a convincing moan as he thrusts up into his mouth. 

"Fuck, I'm close," he pants, not feeling close at all, and curls his toes in his shoes to force a finer tremble, quickens his breathing, stumbles his rhythm once, twice, and halting with a gasp. Max presses the piercing to him, Wally groans, and makes himself shudder like he's coming, twitching his thighs together and grinding against Max's tongue as he counts seconds in his head. 

Five of those seconds later, he gives up on the trembling, pretending to fade into vague aftershocks. He tugs Max away from him, and his breath does genuinely catch at the string of spit that connects Max's lower lip to the latex. Max breaks it with his wrist, wiping his mouth as he looks up at Wally with sparkling eyes. 

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment," he jokes. 

"Oh, you _should_ ," Wally pants, grinning at Max as he urges him to stand. "That was _good_." It's not a lie. 

"Thanks." 

Wally kisses him with no preamble, swipes his tongue over Max's lip to find him tasting of spit and latex and lube. Not entirely pleasant, but not completely disgusting, either. It's what Wally's mouth is about to taste of. 

"Here, _mm_ \- " Wally pushes Max back so he can bend down and pull his jeans and underwear up - adjust the packer - and retrieve his wallet. He plucks a condom from it and presses it to Max's chest. "Let me return the favour." 

"I'm _not_ gonna last long," Max warns, his lips brushing Wally's. 

"Good." Wally grins and tears this packet open, too. 

He drops easily to his knees to get Max's jeans open, finds him definitely hard and wet at the tip - and a _piercing_ , too, thick and silver. He's careful to avoid tugging on it when rolling the condom on, then, when it's safely snug, takes the chance to wiggle it with his thumb. 

"Does that feel good?" He asks, raking hair out of his eyes to look up at Max, who braces a hand against the door and gapes at him. 

"Yeah, just - gentle," he says. Wally nods. 

Then he doesn't have much room for talking. He doesn't sink down far on Max, just a couple inches, but he makes sure to suck as best he can, bobbing in time with his hand. Max moans attractively and drops a hand to Wally's head, tangling gently in his hair. 

Out of curiosity, Wally flicks the piercing with his tongue. Max tangibly shivers at that, and murmurs again about how he won't last, and Wally just hums deliberately and starts bobbing faster. He _has_ missed getting someone else off, though - something his solo showers can't exactly simulate - and the residual arousal within him is tuning into every one of Max's noises and movements, the way his hips stutter forward and his face scrunches up, the way his fingers flex and his cock twitches on Wally's tongue. If he had more time, he'd love to go slower on this, love to see just how worked up he could get Max, but the guy is already cursing foully above him and struggling to not thrust into Wally's mouth - which Wally appreciates. 

He pays it back by running his tongue over the piercing multiple times. He quickly discovers that _that_ move makes Max's knees shake, and he's pretty smug about employing it, until Max slams his hand against the door and _moans_ his name. 

" _Wally_ , fuck, I'm gonna come," he pants. " _Fuck_." 

Wally hums as if to say _come on, then_ , and leaves the piercing alone to focus more on the rest of Max. It doesn't take long; a minute and Max tenses up all over and comes with a groan, heat pulsing against Wally's tongue through the condom. He shivers at the hot, gut-punch visceral feel of it, can't help digging his fingers into Max's hip to keep him where he is as he toys with the piercing once more, when Max's trembling dials down into panting. 

He pulls Wally off, eventually, and Wally sits back on his heels to wipe his mouth while Max backs up and rolls off the condom. 

"Sorry, I'm not usually so - fast," Max says, flushing sheepishly. 

"Don't worry," Wally assures him, grins as he stands up. "I like fast." 

"Still." Max smiles at him as he dampens paper towel to wipe his dick clean. "If I'm gonna be buried in the mouth of a super hot guy, I'd like to last more than two minutes." He cleans come off his piercing and gently works the paper towel underneath the curve of it. Wally steps up to wash his hands at the sink beside him. 

"But I'm assuming," Max continues. "I can't get your number for a next time?" 

Wally shakes his hands dry and reaches for a paper towel. Grimaces before he meets Max's eyes in the mirror. 

"Sorry," he says. "I'm not - really looking for that." 

"Hey, that's cool," Max assures him, tucking himself back in. "But I'd kick myself if I didn't at least try." 

Max would be good for him, Wally thinks. He's funny, charismatic, decent, laidback. Everything Wally likes in a guy. Everything that Dick has going for him. 

Wally mentally kicks himself. Max is...too much like Dick to be good for him. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he shouldn't have tried to blow off steam about Dick by sleeping with someone a lot _like_ Dick, however accidentally, and maybe Wally just has a ridiculous specific type but really he knows it's desperation seeping out of his carefully crafted walls like smoke and latching onto whoever is the closest to what he really wants. 

"It was nice meeting you, though," Max says, and turns the water off to dry his hands. When he finishes, he gestures to the door. "Can I walk you out?" Complete with a goofy grin and cocked eyebrow. 

"Glad to see chivalry isn't dead," Wally jokes. Then leans in and kisses Max on the cheek. "But thanks for a great time." 

"Likewise." 

Max lets them out of the bathroom and they part amicably in the crowd. Wally winds his way over to one of the table in the corner and orders a drink with a sigh. Max was a mistake. A very hot, very attractive mistake, but a mistake nonetheless, because all Wally can think of now is _Dick_ , and that's exactly what he came here to avoid - 

"Y'know, if you were gone for another ten minutes, I was gonna send out a search party." Roy slides onto the bench seat beside him, grinning ear-to-ear with a can of soda held between his hands. "How'd it go?" 

"It was fine," Wally says. "It went - fine." 

"But?" 

"But he - " Wally sighs. "He was too much like Dick." 

"Ah." Roy cracks his can open. "So, not enough distraction?" 

"Not enough." Not any. Briefly, yes, but for the night? Not nearly. 

"Did you at least blow off some steam?" 

"Not really." Wally glances at Roy then out at the crowd. "I faked it." 

Roy pats his shoulder in sympathy. 

"What about someone else?" He asks. "You were talking to a couple people earlier - "

"It's too _hard_ ," Wally complains. "I don't - I keep finding the wrong people, they're all too _similar_. And I don't want to have to explain - " he gestures to his crotch " - every _time_." 

Roy stays silent for a long moment. A bartender comes by with Wally's drink. He thanks her with a smile, tips her seventy percent, and sighs into his glass the moment she's gone. 

"Do you still want to try a one-night stand?" Roy asks carefully. Wally doesn't exactly know why he's being _careful_ ; Roy knows almost everything about him and he's never been shy about discussing Wally's bedroom habits before. 

"Yeah," Wally says, because he does, and he would love a fun night with no strings attached and no complications but he keeps getting stuck on people that act like Dick and on the dread of having to come out every single time - 

"Do you wanna just do it ourselves?" Roy asks. Wally blinks at the table a couple times to process the words. _Ourselves_. 

"Like - you? And me?" He asks eventually, looking over at Roy, who rubs the back of his neck and sighs. 

"Not - exactly," he says. "Look, it'd - it'd be me and Jason." 

Wally doesn't get the meaning for a couple of seconds. Then it clicks, and Roy flushes at Wally's _oh_. 

"I didn't know you were dating," he says stupidly. 

"We're keeping it quiet," Roy says. "But look, that's not - we've discussed having a threesome before, I'm sure he'd be fine with it if you want to, and we'd talk about it beforehand, of course, all three of us - " 

Roy and Jason. Roy is nothing like Dick, _Jason_ is nothing like Dick, in fact, they're so much _not Dick_ that Wally forgets to actually wait for Roy to finish talking before he answers. 

"Yeah," he blurts out. Roy stops mid-sentence and looks at him strangely. 

"Are you sure?" He asks. 

"Yeah, I'm - yeah, definitely," Wally says. If he could do no-strings-attached with anyone, it'd be Roy. And Jason. But the bonus is that Roy already knows he's trans. 

"Huh. Okay," Roy says. Then, "how about a couple dances and then we call it a night, yeah?" He holds up an outstretched pinky. "I'll just be a dance partner, not a wingman. Promise." 

Wally tips his head back with a laugh and hooks his finger through Roy's. 

"All right," he says. "Let's go dance." 

\-- 

The _negotiations_ , as they were, happen mostly over text. It's the easiest option, after figuring in the time and distance and conflicting schedules. It's Wally sprawled on his bed in pyjamas with forgotten 80s music pouring from his radio, flat on his back and ignoring the ache in his arms of holding his phone up, while Jason texts through a _is anyone else watching the Cheers rerun_ and Roy chimes in with just enough formality to indicate that he's using a dictation response - probably holed up in his workshop and reluctant to pause whatever his hands are doing to answer them. 

It's a lot less daunting than Wally expected, honestly. The conversation had started a couple days ago, just a week after Roy propositioned him, and it had started with Jason sliding into a new group DM with _so I heard we're having a threesome_ , which made Wally laugh so loudly he almost woke up Donna two rooms over. 

_Jason: okay what else is there to cover_

_Roy: tests unless we want to commit to protection_

_Jason: that's up to Wally, you know I don't care_

_Roy: I haven't gotten tested since before Jason but I'm clean, it's only been him_

_Roy: I can get tested again if you want, walls_

_Jason: same_

_Jason: I'm immune anyway_

_Jason: thanks Ra's_

Wally barks out a laugh and settles in against his pillows to respond. His last test was, god, six months ago? And he hadn't slept around since except - fuck, he forgot to book in a test after Max. 

_Wally: I...should get tested first_

_Roy: Wally._

_Roy: The guy from the BAR?_

_Wally: we used condoms! I'm just getting one to be safe_

He can practically _hear_ Roy's laughter across the screen in answer before he fills in the lull in conversation. 

_Roy: anything else either of you want to say?_

There's a long, pregnant pause. Wally chews on his lower lip. He hasn't actually brought up the topic of being trans yet - wasn't sure how, and didn't want to break any of the semi-jokey conversations yet, and - 

Roy already knows. That's part of why Wally is so comfortable doing this with him. Roy already _knows_ , and he's even been to Wally's doctor appointments in the past, when he was first medically transitioning. 

Jason doesn't know, but Wally hovers somewhere between hesitant and pathetic on actually telling him. He doesn't expect a negative reaction - he doesn't think Roy would be dating a transphobe, and he wouldn't _invite_ Wally into their bed if he thought Jason would react badly to it at all. 

Wally just has to find the words to say it again. It's easy, it's right there, in the blank text message box, his thumbs hovering over the keys. He tries a couple combinations - just a straightforward _I'm trans_ , then a jokier _so have either of you slept with a trans dude before or am I the honoured first?_ \- deletes both, settles on the first one, deletes it, types it out again, debates the send button - 

_Jason: nope_

Just like that, Wally's brief courage evaporates like a puddle in the desert. He deletes the words. He sort of prefers doing it in-person anyway, when it's easier to gauge a reaction. Tells himself that's the reason than being an irrational coward. 

_Wally: nah_

_Roy: okay cool_

Wally taps his fingers on his stomach and thinks. He doesn't really know what to expect from this, and he doesn't want to make any assumptions, but if all the cards are on the table, then he should probably-maybe definitely bring a dental dam or two, out of courtesy. 

_Wally: you want me to help supply protection and lube?_

_Jason: oh god no please we have so many fucking condoms_

_Jason: and lube we definitely have lube_

Wally giggles to himself. A new notification pushes his chat down. It's from Roy. 

_Roy: we have dams, too_

_Wally: thanks_

He switches back to the group chat with a flick of his finger, waiting for whatever Jason's typing. 

_Jason: I don't know how to say this without sounding completely horny Wally but if we're getting tested then I'm using my fucking mouth_

Wally sucks in a sharp little breath. He's not quite sure what to do with Jason's bluntness - except admit to himself that it's definitely pressing some buttons, and he's instantly a little curious about what plans Roy and Jason are making for him. 

_Jason: leaving me on read? both of you? fuck you for nothing_

_Roy: you know I think you're sexy what do you need my response for_

_Wally: I was distracted_

_Jason: I'll remember this next time you send me a dick pic, Harper_

_Roy: shit_

Wally laughs out loud, responds with a _get wrecked Roy_ , and spends a few minutes hashing out other details with them - the date, the time, what they're open to, things they hate. There's nothing there that's a surprise to Wally, and there's nothing out of the ordinary presented to him, so overall, he's feeling pretty comfortable about his decision. 

_Roy: I think that's it_

_Roy: see you next week, walls?_

_Wally: you'll see me tomorrow Roy_

_Roy: but not naked_

_Jason: unfortunately_

_Jason: so, anyone up for a circle jerk?_

Something between a snort and snicker spills from Wally's mouth. Honestly, he's _tempted_ , even though he can hear the joking tone behind the words, and he thinks if he did actually say yes, Jason would go ahead with it. 

_Roy: it's ten in the fucking morning_

_Jason: not on this coast it isn't_

_Wally: tempted but I'm gonna pass_

_Wally: I got shit to do tomorrow morning_

They say their goodbyes, and their jokes, and Wally sets the phone down on his bedside table. 

It's not really a lie. He does have shit to do tomorrow. He's got case reports to make, a job to show up to on time, a League meeting to squeeze in... 

He shifts so he's comfortable on the blankets and cocks a leg up as he slides a hand down into his sweats. 

It's not really a lie, but he can afford to take a few minutes right now to scratch the itch. He thinks a little of Jason, a little of Roy, a little of Max, and a lot of whatever he's gonna get up to next weekend with Roy _and_ Jason. 

\-- 

When the weekend rolls around, Wally's jittery with nerves. He shouldn't be, really - casual sex is nothing unusual for him, and Roy's already seen him naked fifty different times in the changing rooms, but it all comes together differently when he's heading over to an apartment complex in Gotham with a very definite, explicit plan to fuck his best friend and his boyfriend. 

Wally doesn't really know what to bring for said occasion, so he settled on chips and salsa. Mild, not hot. 

Although when Jason opens the door to him with a friendly smile, Wally's nerves calm instantly. He can smell pasta sauce in the air, filling the kitchen and living room areas with a pleasantly warm atmosphere as Jason takes the snacks off his hands, and Roy calls out a greeting to him over his shoulder, and it feels like any other time he visits. 

He's never been to this particular apartment, though, and it's a surprisingly nice place. Wally had assumed it was Jason's, or Roy's, but when he squints at the photos on the shelves across the room and the personal touches around it - from alphabetised books to a modern record player stashed in the corner - he realises it's Roy's _and_ Jason's. 

"I thought it'd be messier in here," he jokes instead, and Jason's shoulders shake with his laughter. 

"Trust me, it's hell in the armoury," he replies, jerking a thumb to a plain door in the corner of the living room. His smile curls higher in one corner, playful. "And the bedroom, but I guess you'll find out later." 

"I'm hoping I'll be too distracted to notice," Wally says, letting his eyes roam over the fabric over Jason's shoulders, just slightly tighter than it should be. He wonders if it's deliberate. By the way Jason crosses his arms and raises a knowing eyebrow, it is. 

"Jase, stop flirting and offer him a fucking drink," Roy says, laying a lid onto a pot and turning around to gesture at the fridge. He grins when he sees Wally, eyes flicking up and down his outfit. "Damn, West, you actually made an effort." 

In all the excitement, Wally had forgotten that Roy would be familiar with his usual rota of clothing. He hasn't put anything particularly special on today, but Roy probably recognises the jeans as one of his going-out pairs, and he definitely eyes up the white tank top and the open shirt Wally shrugged on on top. 

"You're not too bad yourself," Wally says, grinning. 

Roy, as usual, is in a sleeveless shirt and sweats, although Wally spies the wet tips of his hair still curling against his neck, and if Roy's money is where his texts are, that was a deliberate shower. 

Jason, however, looks effortlessly hot. Wally can appreciate it, despite Jason not being his usual type, and he's fully aware of Roy watching him watching Jason, envying the way his jeans sling low on his hips, just a tease of skin when he leans onto the breakfast counter to bicker with Roy. 

" - to drink?" Jason asks, turning his gaze onto Wally. Wally blinks his thoughts away and glances at the open fridge, where Roy is snagging two soda cans with one hand. 

"Uh, I dunno," he says. "Do you have Fanta?" 

"Fanta," Jason mutters. "Roy, why do all your friends have bad taste." 

"That's why they're friends with me," Roy replies cheerfully, and sets down a couple of cans on the counter. "And you can shut up about bad taste, because here's your Dr. Pepper." 

The bickering only lasts until dinner's done, which is when Jason firmly sits Wally on the sofa and forbids him to help, because he's a _guest_ , and lets him stew in a mixture of excitement and nerves before they rejoin him with food, plopping down either side of him. Roy hooks an ankle around Wally's, Jason presses against his side, and it's really only the distraction of the plate in front of him that stops Wally's mind from wandering too much. 

Although it's clearly reciprocated, by the glance traded across him, and the way Jason's fingers linger deliberately over his forearm before reaching for the remote. 

"Any movie in mind?" Roy asks, twisting his fork in a mound of spaghetti. 

"I'm not picky," Wally says, then grins. "I think that's part of why I'm here." 

" _Ouch_ ," Jason hisses. " _And_ you cooked him dinner, Roy." 

"Oh, you'll change your tune," Roy promises, flashing him a cocky smirk. 

\-- 

Wally _does_ change his tune, very quickly after the movie ends, their plates long emptied and forgotten on the coffee table in front of them. With nothing in the way, it's easy to touch Roy and Jason in return - nothing serious, nothing eager, just subtle, lingering touches here and there. Something quiet but insistent builds underneath his skin, something kicked up every time Roy's fingers brush his wrist. Jason is slumped fully against his shoulder, but his hand rests deceptively innocently on Wally's knee, fingertips curled down lower than they should be for just a friendly dinner. 

"Hey, c'mere," Roy murmurs, and delicately touches Wally's chin with two fingers to turn his head. With less than inches between them, Roy pauses, his nose nudging up against Wally's. "Can I kiss you?" 

Oh, _finally_. Wally nods, and Roy takes that as his cue to close the gap between them, fitting his mouth carefully to Wally's. He kisses softly, gently, pressing firmer only when Wally does, eager for more contact. Without thinking, Wally lets himself relax against the sofa, bringing a hand up to rest on Roy's chest as they kiss. Beside him, Jason presses lips to his cheek, then his jaw, humming quietly when Wally reaches out to touch his thigh. 

They make a good pair, Wally thinks, as Roy smoothly ends the kiss and trades him off to Jason with a nudge of his fingers and Jason's fingers curve over his jaw to bring him in. He also pauses, and breathes the same question, and Wally answers with a quiet _yeah, yes_ , and Jason kisses him with a pleased noise. He kisses differently than Roy, in a way Wally can't pinpoint but greatly enjoys, a counterpoint to the lips on his neck, under his jaw, flushing hot with the breath that drifts over his skin. Jason fingers the edge of his shirt, toying with the button holes as Roy's palm splays over Wally's thigh, fingers digging into the in-seam of his jeans, dangerously close and frustratingly far from anywhere useful. 

Wally appreciates the slow start, though, switching between Roy's mouth and Jason's, kissing each of them in turn until he feels warm all over, melted through by their touches, their murmured noises, the reactions to his hands-on them. It also allows him to think about how to come out to Jason - unless Jason already knows, but if so, he hasn't given any indication - and Wally's starting to wonder what'll happen when someone's hand lands too high and finds his crotch way too squishy for what _should_ be there. And would be, if he was cis, because he can't deny the flicker of interest within him, each kiss, each touch fanning it into a flame. 

That doesn't mean he doesn't sneak glances. Catches glimpses of Roy's crotch between movements, the way the fabric of his loose sweats drapes incriminatingly over him, muffles Roy's sigh with his lips. Turns to Jason, cups his jaw and kisses him thorough, open-mouthed, tugging at his lower lip on every other pass, and notices how Jason's thighs shift and squeeze together with his quiet noise, with the flex of his fingers on Wally's abdomen. 

"Get this off," Jason mumbles, tugging at Wally's overshirt. Roy helps pull it off his other shoulder, and Wally arches off the sofa just enough to do an undignified shimmy and shrug the shirt off. Roy grabs it and sends it on its way towards the coffee table, leaving Wally in just his tank top, suddenly with a lot more skin exposed - which Roy takes immediate advantage of, kissing determinedly across his shoulder. 

With a boldness he attributes to the atmosphere, Wally settles his hand high on Roy's thigh, fingers dipping into the crease between thigh and hip, mere millimetres away from Roy's erection. 

"Fuck," Roy breathes. His hips jump up once, and Jason's hand presses against Wally's abdomen again, rucking up the hem of the tank top with his pinky and ring fingers. Wally buries a hand in his hair and kisses him with an eager noise, fully aware of Roy gripping his leg on his right side, pressing kisses into the space underneath Wally's jaw, sensitive enough to make him rumble out something akin to a moan into Jason's mouth. 

It's Jason's moving that reminds Wally he needs to speak up. It's just a shift, inconsequential, but his hand goes to the button on his own jeans, and Wally really needs to say something. 

"Wait, I - " Wally swallows and pulls away from Jason to speak to him. Jason's hand pauses on himself, and he cocks an eyebrow at Wally. "I'm - trans." 

Jason's eyebrows jump up into his hairline. Roy politely stops kissing his neck, simply waiting. Wally powers through despite the bubble of nerves in his throat. 

"It's - you know, uh - " Wally gestures vaguely to his own crotch, hoping to god Jason _does_ know, and he doesn't have to explain it - 

Jason grins and unzips himself, then reaches in and pulls something out. 

"Yeah, I know," he says, and drops his packer to the floor. Wally's caught somewhere between relief and delight, and settles on a laugh, rushed out of him in a breath. Jason mirrors it. 

"Man, if only there was someone telling you both to just spill it already," Roy jokes, half-muffled into Wally's shoulder, and gets a smack to his thigh from Jason for it. 

"You know I hate doing it over text," Jason says. 

"Look, the best time to do it is the last possible moment," Wally agrees solemnly, and gets knocked into Roy with Jason's laughter, shaking both of their bodies. Roy chuckles against his shoulder. 

"Well, hey now that _that's_ cleared," he says, and sits upright on the sofa once more. He gestures at the empty plates on the coffee table. "How about you two head to the bedroom and I'll take care of the dishes?" 

Wally trades one look with Jason before they both agree easily - although Roy doesn't get past standing up before Jason catches his wrist and pulls him down for a kiss, the first Wally's seen all evening. He almost forgets he's allowed to _touch_ , until Roy sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and lays a hand on Wally's shoulder to steady himself. Then Wally gets bold again, planting a hand on Jason's open fly and scraping teeth over the bolt of his jaw. 

"Fuck, lemme - I'm doing the _dishes_ before you distract me," Roy mumbles, and stumbles away from them with a kiss to Jason's cheek, scooping up the plates on his way by. 

It takes longer than it should to get to the bedroom, stumbling over each other and into each other, but really, they keep getting _sidetracked_. Jason loses his shirt somewhere in the hallway, both their belts are long gone, and Wally gets rid of his packer before collapsing on the bed. 

"What do you want?" Jason murmurs, dragging his hips forwards against Wally's like that'll help him _focus_. 

"I meant what I said in the chat," Wally answers. Remembers that conversation with a burning shiver. "I like almost anything." 

"Fuck, okay, then I - " Jason interrupts himself with another kiss to Wally's jaw, then gathers enough awareness to push himself up on his palms, levelling Wally with a heated look. 

"I only have one question," he says, raising an eyebrow. His cheeks pinken slightly. "Are you a multiple orgasms kinda guy, or do you want me to drag it out?" 

Wally feels his own cheeks heat in response at the sheer _boldness_ of the question, and his breath stutters for a moment before he licks his lips to reply. 

"Yeah - uh, I - yeah, I can - multiple times," he stammers out, pulse pounding between his legs. 

Jason's answering grin is _dangerous_. Wally can suddenly, viscerally see why Roy is so attracted to him. 

"Awesome," Jason says, and dips down to kiss Wally's abdomen where his shirt rides up. He keeps his path slow, but determined, smoothly tugging Wally's jeans and underwear down on his way. They land somewhere on the floor. 

Someone whistles low from the doorway when Jason pushes Wally's thighs open and kisses his hip. Wally turns his head to see Roy leaning against the frame, arms crossed, watching them with pointed interest. His sweats hide nearly fucking nothing. 

"I think you just signed away your rights," Roy says, smirking at Wally. Wally glances between him and the man between his legs, the pretty curve of Jason's mouth on his inner thigh, the stained-glass green eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. He feels a little like he's just admitted to a death wish. 

"Get over here," he says instead of anything useful, glances down to Roy's crotch and back up to his eyes, cocks an eyebrow. Roy laughs and shakes his head. 

"Nah, I wanna see _this_ ," he replies, and Wally doesn't get a chance to respond because that's exactly the moment when Jason's lips brush over his cock. His gaze snaps there in an instant. 

Jason has the audacity to _smirk_ around him, before his mouth tightens again to give Wally a teasing little suck. Wally shivers and shifts on his elbows to sink a hand into Jason's hair, his jaw dropping open on a quiet noise when Jason's tongue makes an appearance. It's almost tortuously slow, to start, with lazy drags of Jason's tongue against him, the occasional dip to suck around him, the way his hands rest on Wally's thighs, thumbs digging into muscle to keep him where he is. Arousal pools sticky in his gut, tingling and warm and stretching all the way down to his toes when Jason traces a pattern over his dick and digs the point of his tongue in against the tip in a rare display of pressure. It's lazy enough Wally can even _watch_ , when Jason's jaw falls loose, can watch his tongue snake out and curl around him and pull back in to swallow. 

Wally slides his arm out to lay on his back instead, his head thumping against the mattress as he closes his eyes to focus on the feel of Jason's mouth on him, hot and wet and _attentive_ , licking over his cock in alternatingly delicate and bold strokes, the huffing breaths through his nose washing over Wally's skin and hair, the hot, sparkling arousal originating from Jason's firm grip on his thighs and spiralling out to join all the other sensations. At least, until Jason sinks down to his base and sucks _properly_ , hard, and suddenly the embers in Wally's stomach fan into flames with a gasp, his fingers tightening in Jason's hair. Oh, if he thought Jason was good with just the warming up, it's nothing compared to how Jason is with the actual _blowjob_ , several degrees faster and harder and _oh-so-good_ that Wally is out of breath in a minute flat. 

That same sticky arousal bubbles over into a rushing warmth, kicked up into something much more urgent just by the new speed, the new finesse, the way Jason's tongue licks up the underside of his cock with a certain determination behind it, a driving force translated to lips and spit and the _heat_ that closes around him again and again to suck gently, build up to hard, urging Wally's hips to lift up in even time, selfishly chasing the unique sensation of Jason's tongue against that _one_ spot - 

Jason groans around him, and Wally shudders with the resulting wave of pleasure that washes over him, through him, makes him pant and arch helplessly and collapse against the bed when he can't quite get there yet. But Jason isn't playing games anymore, and he's not holding back on blowing him, and it's only a couple knee-quaking sucks later that Wally starts to feel the edge, his free hand fisting on the sheets as his next breath escapes with a noise, a moan, encouraging and pleading all rolled into one. Jason hums deliberately against him, his nose pressed to Wally's pelvis in his eagerness, lips almost permanently at the base of Wally's dick while he works him over, letting Wally fuck up as much as he's able, rub himself off against Jason's lips and tongue and - 

"Oh - _fuck_ ," Wally spits, toes curling in midair seconds before he comes with a punched-out groan. It ripples through him like adrenaline, making his hips jolt up and his head thump against the sheets, stutter and reverse when Jason doesn't let up for even a second, keeps licking sordid, filthy circles around him like it's what he was _made_ for. 

"Fuck, you look good like that," Roy says, and when did he move closer? Wally opens his eyes just enough to see Roy standing beside the bed, one hand on Jason's shoulder. Jason grunts against Wally's cock and licks it in a swirl like a lollipop. Wally shivers with the aftershock that rips through him and tugs on Jason's hair to urge him off just to be able to catch his _breath_ and maybe string a sentence together. 

"Fuck," is all he manages, lifting his head to look down at Jason as well. Jason's busy pressing kisses to his thigh, slow and gentle and damp, but his eyes flutter open to look up at Wally, glittering with mirth. 

"We're only just getting started," he promises with a laugh. Wally groans and drops his head to the bed. 

"You're gonna kill me," he pants, flexing his fingers in Jason's hair. "That's it, I'm gonna be dead." Can't pine over people he can't have if he's six feet under, he guesses. Maybe that's Roy's plan. 

Roy laughs lightly, and a hand cards through Wally's hair. "Now where's the fun in that?" 

"At least I'll enjoy the ride," Wally mumbles. Jason snorts against his thigh. 

"If it's any consolation, it's not just you," Roy says. "Sometimes he doesn't let me off the fuckin' bed until I've come twice." He strokes a thumb over Wally's forehead. "And he has to wait at least half an hour to even get started on _that_." He shoots a glance at Jason, grins. "Probably to make up for the fact he's a one-and-done." 

Jason rumbles a laugh. The implication sends a tingle of arousal through Wally. Now _that_ , he wants to see. But he's also very fucking invested in the idea of Jason making him come until he can't think straight - not that he does much of that, anyway. 

As if reading his mind, Jason kisses his cock. Wally's only a little ashamed how sharply he sucks in his next breath. Wet warmth laps over him a moment later. 

Jason starts drawing in another pattern with his tongue and Wally moans encouragingly, lifting his hips into Jason's mouth. It's just as good as the first time around, although with a lot less foreplay, and it's not long before Wally feels that same tingle in his bones again, locking up his leg muscles and trembling in his toes - except Roy's still standing there watching them, and he's so obviously hard when Wally opens his eyes to look up at him, and Roy looks like he's two seconds away from touching himself - 

Wally withdraws his hand from Jason's hair to push himself up on his elbows again. He's here for a threesome, so he's gonna fucking put the three into it. 

"Get over here," he says, reaching for Roy. 

"I'm okay, I can wait - " 

"Get the fuck over here." He grabs Roy's waistband and tugs him up so he's by Wally's head. The bed isn't quite high enough for what Wally wants, so he pulls on Roy's sweats until he knees onto the bed, a question forming on his face. Wally wipes it away by pulling his sweats down. Jason sucks noisily on him; Wally shudders and swallows back a whimpery noise as Roy finally gets the fucking hint and pushes his underwear down too, taking himself in hand. 

"Wally," he says uselessly. Spit pools under Wally's tongue. 

"C'mere," he murmurs, and curls a hand around Roy's cock for him to kiss the head, then sink down an inch onto it. 

" _Fuck_ ," Roy pants, and scrabbles to grab at the headboard. It's an awkward angle, and he pokes at Wally's cheek rather than his tongue, but it's good enough for Wally to tongue the underside, mimicking Jason's actions. 

Roy rises up on his knees and leans forward, over Wally, to brace himself better on the headboard, which _definitely_ improves the angle, fucking shallowly into Wally's mouth as Wally groans pointedly and sucks sloppily on him. Jason muffles a moan against him, and Wally bucks into the vibration. _Yeah_ , this is the feedback loop he wanted, Roy pinning his tongue against the floor of his mouth while Jason lavishes attention between his legs, hearing both of them pant and moan and shudder in varying series - Wally drops his hand from Roy to keep himself propped up instead, draws back just enough to tap his tongue over the tip and make Roy swear above him. 

It's hard to keep focused when Jason stops pulling his punches again, when he pushes the flat of his tongue against Wally's dick and undulates it in a filthy pulse, when he groans bone-deep around him. The buzz ripples straight through Wally, sensitive and eager and - _god_. His next noise is muffled by Roy, who spits out a helpless approximation of his name, and Wally pops off of Roy to suck in a breath, hips rocking up in short, snappy thrusts. 

Roy pushes himself back up to kneel beside Wally, threading a hand into his hair and looking down at Jason with him. He doesn't immediately urge Wally to get back to him, but Wally can't resist the pull of temptation of Roy being _right there_. Roy's hand fists in his hair with a hiss, and his cock twitches against Wally's tongue, and all Wally can do is hum and glance up at him, tremble all over with the intensity of Roy's gaze and the motions of Jason's tongue. His own fingers dig into the mattress - Roy's eyes flick there, then to Wally's thighs, trying to close around Jason, and Roy lets out a low moan. 

It's all Wally can do to not-quite whimper around Roy's cock, a sharp heat building up at the base of his spine again, familiar and hot and flickering in time with the drumbeat of his pulse. Jason shifts, releases one of his thighs, pants harshly against his skin and - and Wally glances down to see Jason's arm disappearing under himself, working in a recognisable jerking motion, and that's enough to jolt another searing bolt of arousal through Wally that peaks with him pulling off of Roy and gasping Jason's name just before he shudders and comes again, almost by surprise. He squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back to pant, ignoring the way Roy's cock bumps against his cheek and chin, ignoring everything but the shivery tremors running through his whole body, amplified where Jason tongue laps over him in broad, pressured strokes. He feels himself shudder again, harder, and he can't help the way his legs instinctively try to clamp shut, press to Jason's sides, his heel digging into the bed. 

Distantly, he's aware of Jason shifting rhythmically, isn't really aware of much else until Jason pulls off of him to breathe, head pressed to Wally's hip. Roy strokes through his hair comfortingly, his other hand dropping to curl around Wally's shoulder, smooth across his collarbone. 

"Save some for the rest of us, Jase," Roy teases - Wally lifts his head up with a weak groan to watch the dirty look Jason's surely going to shoot Roy's way. And he does, but it's completely undercut by the flush painted onto his cheeks, by the way he _does_ remove his hand from himself and carefully places it on Wally's thigh again. He pants against his skin and looks to Wally next, and Wally isn't prepared for the sheer amount of clear arousal in Jason's expression. It makes his blood stampede south despite the two orgasms. 

"Do you want anything else?" Jason asks, pausing to give Wally a chance to answer. And, well, if he's offering... 

"Fingers are good," Wally says, glancing at Jason's on his thighs. Jason laughs and brings one hand closer, hovering just underneath his dick. 

"Where?" He asks. Wally shrugs one shoulder. 

"Either," he says. Cracks a smile. "Whichever you hit first." 

Jason giggles at that, and brushes his fingers down lower, teasing. His thumb taps over where Wally's come is probably pooling by now. 

"You're still gonna need lube," Wally tells him, and Jason jerks his chin up past Wally. 

"Top drawer," he says. Roy watches intently above him, bottom lip pulled between his teeth, and Wally stretches up to tug open the drawer and fish around for a plastic bottle. He tosses it down to Jason a moment later, who slicks up his fingers moments later. 

"How many?" 

"Depends if you want to fuck me tonight," Wally bites back automatically, gratified at the low moan that rumbles from Roy. Jason's teeth sink into his thigh with a groan. 

"Well it's either Roy or you. My turn was last night," he says a moment later, complete with a teasing grin aimed at Roy, who laughs and shifts on his feet, his cock nudging against Wally's cheek. "He loves having a dick up his ass." 

"That's pretty gay," Wally says to Roy, who chuckles again, lips quirked up in a grin. 

"Wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't," he replies, to the tune of Wally's and Jason's laughter. 

Cold slick touches at Wally's dick - he jumps and watches, rapt, as Jason traces two fingers around it in a slow tease, his heated gaze trained on Wally's face. His tongue flicks out a moment later, a warm counterpoint to the cold lube, and Wally shudders on his next breath. Then the fingers drag down, leaving a sticky trail in their wake before they push up to Wally's hole. 

Jason's eyes flutter shut as he takes Wally in his mouth again, working him over with a few smooth, seamless swipes of his tongue. He's so gentle that Wally doesn't even notice when the first finger slips in an inch - and then he does, and lets his legs fall open wider to give him room. 

A sound to his right alerts him to the new movement of Roy's hand on himself, stroking lazily from base to tip, twisting at the head. His eyes are glued on Jason when Wally glances up, and then they shift to him, something hot and interested in their depths. Wally's never seen Roy aroused before, not this close, not this _viscerally_ , and it gut-punches something deep inside him. 

Jason's finger sinks in all the way and Wally's breath hitches. It feels like a lot of nothing at first, just odd on his nerves, and then Jason sucks on his dick, and the twin sensations knock all the remaining air out of Wally's lungs. 

"Fuck," Roy breathes. His other hand lands delicately on the back of Wally's head, cradling him while Jason fingers him _slow_ , all twist and pull and _push_ , excruciatingly careful. 

"Roy - " Wally turns his head to bump his mouth against Roy's cock again, glances up at him through his eyelashes. Roy groans, deep and guttural, and uses the grip in Wally's hair to keep him steady while he pushes his dick between his lips. Jason moans beneath them, huffing hot breaths against Wally's cock while his tongue runs lazy circles. 

The build-up is slower this time, dragged out by Jason's deliberate delay and the ache Roy's working into his jaw with even, shallow thrusts - Wally tightens his jaw and sucks just that bit harder to make Roy swear hotly above him. He's still thinking about Jason's proposition in the back of his head - _it's either Roy or you_ \- and waiting to see if Jason's going to dive into prepping Wally, make the decision for them. 

Or, well, there doesn't have to be a decision. 

Wally pops off to speak just as Jason nudges a second finger against his hole - he _is_ trying to fuck him tonight, god - and ends up panting instead, brow creased as Jason gently slides in his middle finger. Now _that_ , he notices, notices the slight burn and the stretch that settles, seconds later, into a pleasant thrum, keyed up more by the touch of tongue on his cock. 

" _Fuck_ , you're good at this," Wally moans. Jason chuckles around him, which doesn't help matters - or does, depending on how you look at it. With effort, Wally tears his gaze from Jason to look up at Roy. 

"Roy, do you - " he swallows and gestures to Roy's hips. "Can I - fuck you?" 

"Holy _shit_ ," Roy wheezes. Jason glances up at both of them, a smirk drawing his lips off of Wally. 

"You know where the lube is," he says. Wally locks eyes with Roy, who nods with a breathless noise. Wally doesn't hesitate to scoop up the lube from beside his hip and clumsily slick up a couple of his fingers. 

" _Jesus_ ," Roy breathes when Wally gets his mouth on him again, licking wet and hot over the head, deliberately messy, as his hand comes up between Roy's legs, pressing his thumb to the space behind Roy's balls before shifting back a couple telltale centimetres. 

Roy shivers when Wally taps over his hole, shuffling his knees apart to give him room as Wally warms up the lube against his skin. Between his own legs, Jason buries his fingers in all the way and crooks them up - he misses what he's looking for, and Wally lifts his hips to encourage him to try again. Next time, he hits it dead-on, pressing up and dragging down in a simulated thrust that makes Wally's bones turn to jelly. He can't help the moan he muffles on Roy, and he can't help the jolt of his hips when Jason repeats the move. 

By the wicked grin Jason shoots him, he's nowhere near done with him. 

And that's perfectly fine by Wally. 


	2. Chapter 2

By the time his clock beeps over to seven, Dick still hasn't slept. He's caught a couple fitful hours here and there, napped against his rumpled pillows and then awoken with a grumble, rinse and repeat until the gave up on sleep entirely and rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. 

He's spent most of the night thinking. Always does, right after a break-up. His mind doesn't seem to care if it's mutual or not, because either way, he keeps _thinking_ about right through the next night. 

It had been...a surprisingly easy conversation with Kori, last night. 

The thing about Kori is she _always_ a good friend, even when she's being dumped, and Dick doesn't think it's particularly fair for her to be comforting him even when he's the bad guy in this. Well, subjectively bad. He _feels_ bad. For Kori, for the charade he's been carrying on for far too long - 

It had been an easy conversation, but it weighs on Dick like a tonne of steel. It was the right decision, but it still hurts in a weird, empty way. He had sat her down on her bed, he told her the truth, told her that lately he wasn't seeing her as more than a friend, that it had...fizzled out for him, and god, he sounded like such an asshole but Kori was nodding along silently, her eyes open and honest and so _understanding_ when she said she could tell, and she was starting to feel the same, and - 

Well, he told her partial truth. He had lost whatever feelings he once held for her, more like a fleeting crush than anything concrete, and he hadn't wanted to drag her through a one-sided relationship - 

But he doesn't know how to tell her he's been dating through a matchbook to try and drown out the candle he holds for someone else. 

He doesn't know how to tell _anyone_ that. And he falls for it every time - every single time he gets a crush on someone else, it eventually, inevitably, falls apart in his hands like play-dough, crumbling into remorse and pity and longing. 

Really, he wishes he had learnt that sooner. Before Barbara. She was his first relationship, and, unfortunately, his first emotional casualty. She hadn't felt the same at the break-up, like Garth and Kori - she had actually _loved_ him, or whatever passed for it when they were sixteen, seventeen, and shouldering many more burdens than they needed to. 

She drifted from him for a few months. She came back, as she always did, ready to be friends again, but Dick still remembers those first few months, grappling with the guilt and the shame and diving headfirst into the Titans as if that could solve any of his problems. As if his _problem_ wasn't on the fucking team. 

For some stupid reason, he thought it would be different with Garth. Years had passed since Barbara, and Dick hadn't pursued anyone else in that time, and he - he thought he could make it work, this time. That this new, overpowering crush would smooth out and settle into something lasting. 

It didn't. Of course it didn't. And when Dick had the conversation with Garth, it ended peacefully. Garth agreed they were better as friends, and he hadn't taken any noticeable space from Dick afterwards, even though Dick would have granted anything he asked. 

And Kori. Sweet, loving, literal _princess_ Kori that he didn't ever deserve. Just a couple years after Garth, and he was heads over heels for her, and this time he _waited_. He waited to see if it would fade, just like all the others, and he waited for months, and it never did. So he asked her out. 

And now, it had faded. It had long faded, if he was being honest with himself. Only a couple months, but he was determined to try and pull it back this time. But like the tide, it had inevitably slipped away from him. 

Dick presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and sucks in a sharp breath to dispel the lingering ache in his throat. He shed his tears already, hidden under hot shower water last night, and he's not looking for a repeat. 

There's nothing to cry about, really. He knows exactly why all his relationships haven't lasted. He knows why he can't keep it together. And it's because of one stupid teenage crush that hasn't faded yet, and he's been accidentally waiting _years_ to see if it will. 

So far, Wally still makes his heart do kickflips in his chest. 

Dick sighs in frustration and rolls out of bed to grab his clothes. There's no point sitting around his bedroom feeling sorry for himself - he tried that after Barbara, and it didn't work, so he gets dressed to go to who he _always_ goes to for a shoulder to metaphorically cry on - Roy. 

Roy doesn't know about Wally, but Dick thinks today might just be the day he lets that particular secret slip out. 

\-- 

Dick's honestly glad Roy's staying in Gotham now. He doesn't know _why_ he's decided to live more permanently in Gotham, but works out in a multitude of ways. For one, the train from Manhattan to Gotham is significantly shorter than from Manhattan to Star City, which means Dick can only stare miserably at his own reflection for so long before the train pulls to a stop. 

It occurs to Dick as he steps out in the grey sunshine that he probably should've texted ahead to ask Roy if he's free, despite Roy's open invitation policy. 

But since he's already here, he might as well just go visit him in-person. He crosses the street with all the other deboarded commuters, then splits from the crowds to take his own route. The farther east he gets in the city, the more sunshine peeks out through the cloud layer, naked patches of blue sky visible here and there. 

Roy's building is one of many residential blocks in this area, which means Dick's _technically_ supposed to buzz in and ask for Roy to let him in. Instead, he inputs Roy's building code into the keypad and the door unlocks with a quiet click. The only people outside this early - just after nine, when Dick checks his watch - are business suits on the other side of the road, shuffling into skyscrapers. 

When he gets to the elevator, it's all the way up on floor ten, so he takes the stairs instead. It gives him time to compose himself, and think exactly of what he wants to say to Roy - or how to break it, really, that he's broken up with yet _another_ partner for the exact same reason as all the others, but wait, there's a _reason_. 

Dick feels pathetic just thinking it. He comes to a stop outside Roy's door a moment later, rapping his knuckles against the dark wood. It opens a handful of seconds later - 

to Wally. _Wally_? 

His smile fades as fast as Dick's, who blinks and - and Dick recognises that shirt, but not as one of _Wally's_ , as one of - 

Jason emerges from the hallway in the back, rubbing a hand over his hair, shirtless. Only then does Dick notice Roy standing at the stove, his hand frozen on the frying pan as he stares at Dick and Wally. 

"Where's my - oh." Jason looks over at Wally, at Wally wearing his shirt, at Dick. "Shit." 

It's too much information to take in at once, really, because Dick had no idea Roy was involved with _anybody_ , let alone Jason, let alone _Wally_ , but if - 

God, he's pathetic. Pathetic and ridiculous and stupid and - and he's staring blankly at Wally, at Roy, at Jason, at the clear - 

"It's not - " Wally starts, but Dick's already stepping back from the doorway and shaking his head. 

"I'll, uh, I'll come back later," he mumbles, and shakes his head again before walking away, back down the carpeted hallway. 

The door doesn't close until he's long gone. 

"Well," Roy says, to no one in particular. "Fuck." 

\-- 

It's Wally that texts first, roughly a week after Dick walked in on whatever...that was. 

Roughly a week. Six days and four hours and twenty minutes, to be exact. Even Dick hates how quickly he can recall that. 

Thing is, he hasn't spoken to Wally for that same six days and four hours and twenty minutes; he's seen him around, he's passed him in the Titans workspace, he's seen him in training, but he hasn't actually - _talked_ to him. Or Roy. Or Jason. Dick knows it's none of his business, and he knows it's stupid to be so hung up on it, but he's _kicking_ himself for yet another lost chance. 

It just - works out that way for them, it seems. Never single at the same time, never available, never _anything_. 

The text is simple.

_Wally: that place next to the park just reopened_

_Wally: wanna grab a coffee?_

Dick agonises over the response for several long seconds. If Wally's reaching out, then it must be to tell Dick about his new relationship, right? It would be nothing Wally hasn't done before, excitedly telling Dick about his latest date with a scone crumbling to pieces in his hands and Dick listening intently, always happy for him, genuinely, even when it inevitably aches inside him, like rotting fruit. 

Or...Wally's just asking for coffee like he normally does every couple of weeks. Maybe he won't talk about anything, maybe he doesn't think there _is_ anything to talk about. 

Dick selfishly hopes it's the latter. 

_Dick: sure_

_Dick: when?_

_Wally: couple hours?_

_Dick: see you then_

\-- 

The café is an independent store nestled beside a small park, parked comfortably between a bookshop and a florist's. It has a charming brick façade and refreshingly tasteful decor, all pleasant, warm hues of brown and gold and just a subtle touch of black or white to make it really pop. 

Dick hasn't really noted any of it this time. He'd made and gotten his order, and now he's waiting at their usual table for Wally, who's currently running four minutes late. Dick's not worried about it - he checks his phone, sips his coffee, and watches the park scene outside, with afternoon joggers and dog-walkers and gleeful children. 

The bell over the door rings a moment later, and Dick snaps his gaze to the entrance to see Wally stepping in. Wally stops and looks around until he spots Dick, grinning at him as he runs a hand through handsomely dishevelled hair. He gestures to the counter and Dick waves him off with a smile, sitting back in his chair to wait. 

"Sorry, I was helping Wally with a mural in his room," Wally says, sliding into his chair with a coffee and a charming smile. Dick's heart squeezes in his chest. Wally holds up a hand to gesture height. "Y'know, kid Wally." 

"I didn't know you were in the Tower," Dick says. "A mural?" 

"Yeah, it's a whole - " Wally wipes a hand across empty air, " - cityscape. It's pretty neat. He's got Damian helping out, too." 

"Roped Dami into it, huh?" Dick chuckles at the thought. "They must be getting on pretty well." 

"They take after their elders," Wally jokes. Dick has no reply, so he just laughs quietly. 

But when the laughter fades away, so does the conversation. Wally opens his mouth to speak again, but when he meets Dick's eyes, it's like Roy's apartment all over again, and all Dick can see for a moment is the same expression that opened the door to him. Wally seems to feel it too, by the way he snaps his mouth shut and looks away. 

Dick leans back onto the table to set his scalding cup down while Wally blows on his to cool it down. Neither of them speak. 

Dick doesn't know what to talk about. He assumes Wally knows somehow that he and Kori are no longer together, but he doesn't exactly want to _invite_ that conversation. The answer is simple, better as friends, but the reasoning underneath is something a lot more complicated and tangled. Something about Dick falling in love over and over but never quite acknowledging the bubble in his chest whenever _Wally_ came over to visit the manor. Something about Dick breaking up with Babs and something about Wally starting on with Linda the next day and something about neither of them being single at the same time and something about missed opportunities but Dick doesn't even know if he _has_ an opportunity. For all he knows, Wally's completely uninterested in him. 

And for all Wally knows, Dick's - _oh_ , Wally _doesn't_ know. Dick realises with a start that he's never addressed his sexuality outside of a need-to-know basis, really. Which is after the first date and before the first night together. He's never hidden it otherwise, or denied it, but it so rarely comes up outside of romantic contexts. And he's never had a first date with Wally, but he's had plenty of late nights with him. And he likes him. _Like_ -likes him. 

There's a quiet, hopeful, probably stupid part of him that thinks coming out to Wally might just count as a hint. Sort of 'hey I'm deliberately telling you I like guys, connect the dots?'. 

It's a pathetic thing to hope for. But he should probably at least tell Wally, if for nothing more than friendship's sake. He doesn't want anything accidentally hidden between them. 

And it seems like such a silly problem, on reflection. Hell, Wally's come out to them more than once, from trans to bi to gay, and honestly Dick shouldn't feel so awkward suddenly realising he's never returned that in kind. He knows he doesn't have to, but Wally's...Wally's _Wally_. He's his best friend, and his stupid, stupid crush, and he's _important_ to Dick in ways he can't quite vocalise. 

"I'm bi," Dick blurts out. Wally shifts on his seat but Dick stays staring at his coffee. 

"I - it's...I like all genders," he adds, pressing his palms to the cup. "I - worked some things out a few years ago and I realised I never actually _told_ you and you're my best friend and - " he's rambling, he knows he is and it's stupid and he feels ridiculous but he never actually formally came out to anybody, really, that he wasn't dating, and don't fucking friendzone him while trying to give him a hint, Grayson, _god_ \- 

"That's cool," Wally says, immediately diffusing any tension still knotting tight in Dick's chest. He doesn't know _why_ he's still nervous whenever he does this - he knows full well it'll never be a problem with his friends, his family. 

"Thanks for trusting me," Wally adds, soft and genuine and Wally _always_ knows just what to say and - and well, he's had to come out to _them_ multiple times, multiple ways, and maybe experience does repay itself in kind, there - 

"When have I not?" Dick scoffs instead, shares a warm smile with him, and it almost feels like normal, for a brief, fleeting moment. 

Then the silence returns, pervasive and thick. Dick drops his gaze to look out the window instead, at the leaves rustling in the wind, kicked down the street by puffs of breeze. Beyond the road, he can see the lush green of sprinkler-fed grass, fluffy and dewy in the mid-morning. The little lake glitters in the distance, a family of ducks gliding their way across it. 

"I'm not dating Roy or Jason," Wally says out of nowhere. Dick glances at him, but Wally's focused on the scene outside. Dick's heart skips a hopeful beat that he can't quite quash. Wally clears his throat and waves a dismissive hand. 

"It was a - one-time thing." Quiet, but clear. 

Dick nods. "Okay." 

"They're dating. Each other." Wally makes a vague gesture. "But I'm, uh, I'm single." 

And well, that - Dick feels a little obligated to answer that. 

"Me too," he answers softly. It still tears at him, in the liminal spaces between morning and night, between patrol and case work. It's mostly healed over by now, helped along by Kori's quiet, easy acceptance, but it tugs like a half-scabbed paper cut. Not particularly deep or particularly painful, but noticeably uncomfortable. 

Wally cuts him a glance. Dick doesn't meet it. 

"I'm sorry," Wally says. Like it wasn't all Dick's fault. 

"Do you wanna - talk about it?" Wally asks, hesitant. Now Dick does turn to meet his gaze, gets tripped up all over again by the soft, clear _green_ of his eyes, shadowed by the light bouncing through the window. A few strands of hair fall attractively over his forehead, and Dick's hand twitches with the urge to brush them back, to rest his palm against Wally's cheek and kiss him - 

He clears his throat to stop his runaway train of thought. Wally blinks, still waiting for an answer. Fuck. 

Dick digs his fingers tighter around his cup. Roy's usually the one he goes to about break-ups. He's never gone to Wally about one, because Wally's always the unknowing _reason_. 

"I - didn't feel the same," he starts awkwardly. "Or - well, she said it was mutual. But I didn't - I guess I lost whatever romance we had there." He picks at the coffee sleeve and stares into the depths of his drink. 

"It's how all my relationships go." Real smooth there, Grayson, just straight up _tell_ Wally that you're a fucking heartbreaker. That'll make him wanna date you. 

"I know what you mean." 

Dick blinks at the words. Looks up to find Wally staring forlornly out of the window. 

"What?" He asks dumbly. 

Wally lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "It never really works out for me." He sighs. "Linda - it didn't work out. She was a civilian, and I just kept putting her in danger, and I _hated_ it." He swallows with a grimace and sets his coffee cup down. "So I broke up with her to keep her safe." 

"I'm sorry," Dick says. He knows how hard it can get to cross the vigilante/civilian line. And it really, really does hurt. 

"It was probably for the best," Wally says. His mouth twists into a smile. "Turned out I didn't like girls that much anyway." 

Dick glances at him across the table. 

"Guess it was too much to have both of us be bi," he jokes. Wally laughs with him. 

"Maybe that's why Barry reset the timeline," he teases. Dick rolls his eyes and sips his coffee. Still warm, thankfully, and Wally does the same. 

They sit in silence for a few amicable minutes, watching parkgoers on the other side of the window. And a pigeon fight that starts on the sidewalk outside over half a slice of bread. Dick's still turning Wally's words over in his head. He doesn't know how it would feel to realise you've _lost_ an attraction, rather than gain one. But Wally's never been so bogged down by societal values before, so maybe it wasn't as difficult as it was for Dick. 

"I never asked," Dick says, "and you don't have to tell me, but how did you figure out you were gay? Like, instead of bi." 

This time, when Wally's gaze flicks to him, the tips of his ears pinken. He brings up a hand to rub the back of his neck, watching the window suddenly intently. 

"I just - noticed I didn't really find any girls attractive," he says. "I dunno." Slants a look at Dick. "How'd you figure it out?" 

Dick remembers when he first noticed. It was somewhere between eighteen and nineteen, which was conveniently somewhere between leaving high school and settling more into the Titans, and the rest doing the same, and around the time he started taking second glances at Wally whenever they shared the gym, finding himself strangely giddy whenever they were assigned to missions together. 

It was still a couple years before he admitted it to himself, but Wally was definitely the start. And the always, it seems, because despite the awkward conversation he still finds himself hanging on Wally's every word, happy just to have his attention. 

And he can't exactly tell Wally _that_. 

"I noticed I didn't _just_ find girls attractive?" Dick asks with a nervous chuckle. "I - started noticing guys more often. We're not exactly short on lookers in the vigilante department. Or the League." 

"If you tell me you think Barry is hot, I'm gonna have to warn Hal about you," Wally laughs. Dick sets his cup down so he doesn't drop it with his laughter, shoulders shaking against the chair. 

"Don't worry, Barry's not the hot Flash." It slips out before he can bite it back, and his cheeks _burn_ when Wally's gaze snaps to him. 

"So who is?" He asks, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. Dick wants to say Jay just to spite him. 

Instead of speaking, his body betrays him by looking down at Wally's mouth. A hush falls between them, and when Dick tears his gaze back up mere split-seconds later, he catches Wally's eyes doing the same guilty movement. The atmosphere suddenly feels tight around them, stretched between them like putty, and Wally's piercing gaze rips through him to the core.

"Max," Dick says to cover his ass, complete with a smug smirk and picking up his coffee, and Wally tips his head back with a laugh. 

Dick knows full well he hasn't convinced either of them, but Wally doesn't mention it. Just slides into normal conversation with him once more, over coffee, like they do every two weeks when they're not busy. 

And Dick buries his feelings, over coffee, like he does every two weeks when he's not busy, and every single night before bed. 

\-- 

Later that night, Dick finds himself laid out on his bed with his head spinning and his - well, his dick in his hand. It had started off as a way to kill some time before going to bed, but had quickly progressed to something much more determined. Specifically, fixating on the curve of Wally's lips around the edge of the coffee cup, and the handsome mess of his hair and how much Dick wants to sink his hands into it and tug him in and - go from there. Some kissing, some groping, maybe further. 

Okay, so he's never actually gotten past _second base_ , but _god_ he wants to with Wally, if he ever got the opportunity. It's just never progressed past much more in his previous relationships, and it's a little daunting when he thinks about all the - well, all the _sex_ Wally's definitely had, because he's not exactly subtle about his infrequent one-night stands and there was the whole Roy and Jason thing Dick stumbled in on. 

So it's not that Dick doesn't _want_ to, it's just that he _hasn't_ yet. With Barbara, it never got past kissing and a couple of the tamest make-out sessions the world has probably ever seen. They never went further, and Dick was too shy to try and initiate, and then the relationship was over. 

With Garth, it was a little different. Dick was older, hornier, and comfortably re-labelled to date men as well. And fuck, Garth was all _kinds_ of fantasy material when Dick wanted it. They'd even gotten past the making out - which was a lot more adventurous than it had been with Barbara - to hands in interesting places, and sure, they never actually got out of their clothes but it was still fucking fantastic for Dick. He can remember it clearly even though it happened in a darkened room. Tangled up with Garth in his sheets, dragging a hand down his front, squeezing the bulge that mirrored Dick's - 

Dick hisses through his teeth and tightens his fingers up under the head to try and count himself back down from the edge. Fuck, he wants to draw this out. 

He has no scale for how good other people are in bed, with little to no data to compare it to, but whatever Garth did with his hands was sure good enough to make Dick whimper and come in his pants not fifteen minutes later, teeth on Garth's lower lip and other hand grinding against Garth's crotch to get him back, and he remembers Garth's bitten-off _fuck_ like it was yesterday. 

It was kind of the same story with Kori. Dick too fucking shy to initiate, but there were a couple nights where the kissing led into something more, led into some fumbled groping and her guiding his hand down _underneath_ her clothing, encouraging him to curl his fingers down and rub in little circles. And fuck, first time for everything, and Dick remembers pressing his lips to the curve of her neck and grinding against her thigh and the twinge in his forearm when Kori arched up with a breathless little plea for _faster, please, Dick_. 

He brings up a leg to push against the bed better, rock up into his hand, when his thoughts turn, inevitably, to Wally. Now that he's single, he can fantasise about him while only feeling _marginally_ guilty instead of _incredibly_ guilty. Makes all the difference in the world to his orgasm. 

Thing is, he's not surely exactly what he wants to do with Wally. Doesn't know his boundaries, doesn't know his preferences, and it's a little hard to paint a picture when all he has is minimal experience and his own hand. 

Thankfully, his hindbrain has _plenty_ of fodder. Pieces that it stitches together when he's some kind of horny, connections of Wally's grin turning wicked, of Wally's mouth on his, of his jaw hanging open when he comes, the noises he might make - 

Dick coughs out a small noise and turns his face into the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on the fantasy, on the flashbulb images of Wally above him, under him, beside him. Would he act like Garth, Dick wonders, all tension and quiet, physical pleading - or more like Kori, hooking an arm around Dick's neck and showing him what to do. 

In his head, Wally ends up in a similar position he always does, doing something Dick hasn't experienced, with what he imagines it feels like. Has tried to simulate, with warm lube and squeezes of his fingers, but somehow he thinks actually feeling Wally's mouth on his cock would feel like something close to literal godliness. He likes kissing, and he likes the thing Kori did once where she licked two of his fingers before dragging them down, and he tries to translate that sensation to Wally in his mind. 

Fantasy-Wally is handsy, too, fingers on Dick's hip or Dick's thigh as he smirks up at him, the same cocky confidence he shows in the field. Brushing his lips where Dick's fingers touch, a noise caught in the back of his throat when he finally sinks down on him; licking his own fingers to snake into his pants, below where Dick can see, and the resulting shudder of his shoulders - 

Dick comes with a ragged, punched-out gasp, shivering with the wash of pleasure. It still feels good a few tugs later, hot and whitewashing, forcing a quiet _fuck_ from him when he lazily fucks up into his fist and _shudders_ again. He doesn't even care that he's smearing a sticky fucking mess back onto himself. 

His head spins with the filthy fantasy, dialled down to near zero now he's come, but the thought still sends a lazy pulse of arousal through him. It's only when his dick starts to complain that he lets go, deflating with a sigh. Visions of Wally still play on the backs of his eyelids. 

"Get it to _gether_ , Grayson," he murmurs to himself, then proceeds to do the exact opposite of that and lay there spiralling, slowly, into the familiar pit of self-pity and despair. 

Well, at least he's used to it. 

\-- 

It's when he's running laps, something poppy and 80s pouring through his earbuds, that he sees Wally again. A blur of white and black zips up beside him, and then Wally's running in front of him backwards - which is probably no more than a light jog for him - a cocky grin plastered on his face. Dick sighs fondly and plucks out one earbud, slowing his pace to raise an eyebrow at Wally. 

"What's up?" Wally asks. Dick glances down at the pavement underneath his feet and back up. 

"It's called exercise. You should try it sometime." 

"I get enough of that just coming to visit _you_." Wally glances over his shoulder to avoid the lamppost coming up and easily darts around it, lightning crackling around his edges. Dick keeps his steady, but slower jogging pace. "Anyway, I need your help." 

"With what?" 

"Got a couple nasty baddies in Keystone." Wally gestures with his hands while he talks, fingers slicing through the air in fluid, familiar gestures. "Sort of flying? But they're not totally sentient, and we think they're being controlled, but we can't figure out _who_ \- " 

"We?" 

"Oh, yeah, Roy's helping me." Wally flashes him a sunny grin. "He can shoot them out of the sky pretty easy." 

"If Roy's there, what do you need me for?" Dick jokes, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple. 

"Roy's the sharpshooter, but we need Blüdhaven's greatest detective." Wally waggles his eyebrows. "You in?" 

Dick barks out a breathless laugh and nods. "Yeah, okay. Let me just finish this lap first." 

"I'll do you one better." Wally turns around to run forward, glancing back over his shoulder at Dick. "Race you there?" 

"Oh, that's _so_ not fair - " but Wally's already a blur. Dick sighs, plugs his earbud back in, and speeds up to give chase. 

\-- 

"Hey-o!" Roy calls mid-flip, landing neatly beside Dick on the rooftop before sprinting away. "Glad you could make it!" 

"I - yeah?" Dick frowns at Roy's retreating back, then turns to see where he came from - 

And starts running as well, because there's a huge, buzzing, flying... _thing_ , just like Wally had said, glaring at him with murder in its eyes. Asphalt kicks up behind him in a trail as he follows Roy, quickly readying his grapple gun to swing himself to the next building. Roy spins on a heel, arrow notched, and shoots the creature, but whatever armour is on its chest defects it. Roy swears, and the creature barrels closer - and Dick grabs Roy around the waist and flings them off the building, catching their weight on a Batman-strength grapple line as Wally zips in a zigzag underneath them. 

"That was close," he says over the comm. 

"I don't see you shooting," Roy pants in reply, clinging onto Dick's shoulder. "I guess Boy Wonder here's good for one thing." 

"Saving you from robot demons?" 

"Rescuing me like Rapunzel," Roy says instead, grinning wide enough that Dick briefly considers making a rough landing. Instead, he deposits them safely on their feet, and steadies Roy with a hand on his shoulder while he notches another arrow. 

"They seem to run out of battery after chasing me for a while," Wally reports. "So if I tire a few out, we should be able to follow them back to base." 

"So you didn't really need the detective stuff, huh?" Dick asks, charging a stick up to hurl it at the creatures descending on them. The shock end catches it upside the head and sends it flying backwards - beside him, Roy lets arrows fly like rain, whipping them lightning-quick into their marks and downing a fair number of the creatures before they get too close. 

"I'm running out of arrows," he warns both of them over the earpiece. "You better have a fuckin' plan." He notches a trick arrow and it tears a hole right through a wing - the creature shrieks robotically and spirals to the street. 

"They're not out of battery yet," Wally pants. "I'm coming back in your direction." 

"I can't do enough damage from here," Dick bites out. "I need to get closer." 

"If you sweep us out of here, we might be able to - " 

Then, as one, the creatures seem to stop and just...hover for a moment, straightening up to stare blankly in front of them. One by one, something beeps on the back of their necks. Dick angles his shoulder next to Roy's, sticks crackling in his grip. He's got some wingdings he could use, but he can't carry many - 

One of the creatures explodes spontaneously. _Self-destructing_ , Dick realises, when the next one in line detonates. 

"Shit!" Roy yells, fumbling for his last arrow and drawing the bow. "Flash, they're self-destructing, we're losing our only lead!" 

"Yeah, they're - _shit_ \- " Wally's panting trips and stumbles before he regains his voice. "Yeah, there's debris raining down on me." 

"Come to us," Dick commands. "Arsenal, where are you aiming?" The creatures keep exploding, faster now, like a pop of brash fireworks. But Roy doesn't answer, and when Dick looks over at him, he's concentrating on his aim, tongue poking out between his teeth as the string of his bow squeaks. 

"There," Roy mutters, and lets it fly. Dick watches, awed, as it stabs through the air with ease, heading straight for the detonation device on the back of the last creature's neck. 

The arrow spears the device off just in time, and both blow up on their fall to the ground. The creature stays hovering, however. Dick whips out a wingding and sends it careening towards the crack in the chest armour, right where the ribs would be. Presses a button on his stick and the EMP on the wingding explodes; the creature crackles in agony and drops to the ground with a heavy _thunk_ among the bodies of its friends. 

Roy whistles through his teeth. "Nice one, 'wing." 

"You were the one who saved it." Dick holds his hand up for a high-five that Roy gives tiredly. "Good shooting." 

A red blur rips through the debris, and skids to a stop in front of them with an armful of Roy's arrows. Some of the shafts are burnt black, some of the arrowheads peeling, but Wally still presents them in a bundle to Roy. 

"Sorry, I tried to grab all the ones that were intact," he pants. 

"Wow, thanks," Roy says, seemingly surprised. "Burnt arrow is better than no arrow." 

Dick steps away from them to crouch by the remains of the robot. He flicks the mode on his domino to scan it, searching for anything that'll give away its origin. 

"It's Earth metal," he reports. Footsteps crunch by his shoulder. "All Earth materials." 

"It seems pretty basic," Roy adds, squatting to pick through the remnants of the wiring. "Only a couple circuit boards in here." 

"The wings are a mesh membrane," Wally adds from a few feet away, nudging at one wing with the toe of his shoe. Dick's mask filters through the specs of the electronics, running him through different options and probabilities.

"It's American," he continues, and then his mask beeps abruptly, alerting him to a database match. He frowns. "It's LexCorp tech." 

"It doesn't _look_ like LexCorp tech," Wally says. 

"Maybe not the whole thing," Dick allows. "But the motherboard is definitely from them." 

"So, we make a trip up to Metropolis?" Roy asks. 

"Actually, I think he has a warehouse nearby." Wally gestures north of them. "Might be worth checking that first. He doesn't usually operate here." 

"Huh." Roy slaps his knees and stands up. "Okay." 

Dick switches his mask off and stands next to him. "Where, Wally?" 

"By the river." Wally sketches out a massive building with his hands. "Says LexCorp on the side, it's hard to miss." 

"All right." Dick glances up at the rooftops. They're about half an hour from the warehouse on foot. He gestures to himself and Roy. "We'll take the rooftops and you can alert KCPD to the clean-up?" 

Wally nods in a blur of movement. "I'll meet you there." 

\-- 

Roy drops into the warehouse two seconds after Dick, and freezes beside him one of those seconds later, just like Dick. Jason looks up from his prisoner, helmet swivelling to look at each of them in turn. 

"Uh, hi?" Jason sounds only partly sheepish. Dead robots litter the warehouse floor, obvious gunshots blown through all their chests, and the guy at Jason's feet whimpers quietly, turning wide eyes on them. His hands are zipped behind him back and there's a black eye blossoming over his cheekbone, but he looks otherwise relatively unharmed. 

"What...happened?" Dick asks, straightening from his protective crouch to survey the damage. Roy lowers his bow and signs something to Jason that Dick can't decipher. 

"I was following a lead from Superboy," Jason says matter-of-factly. "About movement of Lex's property." He shoves his prisoner's shoulder. "Turns out _this_ guy was stealing some. Tryna be his own supervillain." 

"I - I swear, I wasn't trying to - " An arrow _thunks_ into the ground between the guy's legs, effectively shutting up his babbling. 

"Don't care, you're under arrest, blah blah blah," Roy says breezily, holstering the bow on his back. He taps his earpiece. "Flash, you still at the PD?" 

"No." It comes from behind them. Dick whirls around to see Wally, shit-eating grin and crossed arms and all. 

"You called?" Wally asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

"We need someone to come arrest him," Roy says. 

"There's already a squad car on the way," Wally answers. "Should only be eight minutes or so." 

The rip of duct tape alerts them to Jason once more, only to find him crouching to secure the prisoner's hands. He cuts the zip-tie off with ease once finished. Dick doesn't call him out on it. The guy looks terrified as it is, he's unlikely to run. Might as well have circulation in his fingers while he waits. Jason removes his helmet afterwards, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist. The domino sits crookedly on his nose. 

"Telling me I've only got eight minutes to enjoy this double date?" Jason jokes, hooking the tape onto his belt again with a grin. 

"Hilarious," Dick deadpans. 

"Yeah, I'm a real comedian." He signs something incomprehensible to Roy, who snorts and replies in kind. Dick can't translate it, and doesn't try to. 

"Well, if we're just sitting around then, you mind if I...?" Roy gestures vaguely to Jason, and Dick rolls his eyes with a laugh. Roy's grin is like sunshine breaking clouds, and Dick finds himself with a vague reflection of it on his own lips when he turns to Wally, showing Roy and Jason his back for privacy. 

"So, you needed my detective skills, huh?" Dick asks. "Looks like you need Hood's beating-up skills more." 

"Hey, maybe I just wanted to spend time with you," Wally replies, spreading his hands innocently. "Can't a man want to hang out with his best friend?" 

"At a warehouse." 

"It's scenic!" Wally scoops hair off his forehead, flashing Dick that brilliant, charming grin that got him into this trouble in the first place. "You have to admit, this is one of the nicer warehouses I've taken you to." 

Dick glances around at the corners of the warehouse. It's at least clean, if dusty. 

"Could be worse," he agrees. Wally playfully bumps his elbow. His eyes flick over Dick's shoulder and back. 

"You wanna get dinner after this?" Wally asks, nudging Dick's toe with his boot. He nods to Roy and Jason. "They're probably splitting off together after the cops get here." 

Dick laughs, but he can't deny the bittersweet clench of his heart at the thought of spending a night in with Wally - he doesn't get to do that too often outside of the Tower, with the distance and the duties and everything else that gets in the way. 

"Unless you got a date?" Wally lifts an eyebrow over his mask, all tease, but something...more genuine lurking in the corners. Curiosity, perhaps. Caution, if Dick were to lean into his vigilante instincts. 

"Just you," he replies, flashes a sunny grin and doesn't think about the implications of his words. "If I pay for dinner, can I stay over?" 

Wally pretends to hem and haw over it for a minute, pulling faces and humming thoughtfully as he fakes a debate with himself - long enough for Dick to know Wally's already got spare blankets out at home and long enough that Wally's façade falters, and cracks completely when Dick starts laughing. 

"I mean, if you insist," Wally giggles. His gaze distractedly flicks over Dick's shoulder again - an unreadable expression flits over his face, like suppressed admonishment. Dick turns around and just sees Jason and Roy chatting to each other, although Roy glances at him with an oddly knowing smile. 

Only slightly unnerved, Dick turns back to Wally, who just pulls out his phone and asks what he wants for dinner while sirens approach. 

\-- 

Because the universe seems to function solely on the fuel of Dick's misery, but only specifically when he's trying to go for a nice, calming run, he gets a phone call when he's three-quarters of the way through his fifth lap around the park. His phone buzzes violently against his bicep, interrupting his music with a Bon Jovi ringtone, and Dick frowns at the pavement below him. He tugs his phone out of the sleeve on his arm and glances at the caller ID just to confirm before answering. 

"Jason," he says, still faintly surprised. "Hey." 

"So when are you asking Wally out?" 

Dick almost trips at the words, spluttering as he recovers his footing - and slows to a walk, just to be on the safe side. Leave it to Jason to not beat around the bush. 

"When am I _what_?" 

"Wally. Asking out. When." 

"I'm not doing anything like that." Dick runs a hand through his hair to try and cool down, abruptly burning up now that he's stopped running. His shirt feels like its papier-mached onto him with sweat, sticky and unpleasantly clingy. 

"Dude, it's obvious." 

"'Dude'?" Dick parrots. "Someone's been spending too much time around Roy." 

"Ah, shut up." 

"I will if you will." 

"I've killed for less," Jason deadpans. Dick laughs so hard his earbud almost falls out, but he still manages to catch Jason's answering chuckle on the other end. 

When the giggling dies out, Dick's left with comfortable silence and the hovering threat of Jason's unanswered question. Jason seems content to let him wallow in it for now, something shuffling softly on his end as Dick looks out at the park. There's a group of kids clambering up a wide oak tree, shouting and yelling, and Dick can't help but be reminded of his own tree-climbing days, back when Bruce first adopted him. And then later, when the Titans formed and built a treehouse in the manor gardens. Long abandoned, then revived by each new member of the household in turn, and now lays somewhere between Damian and Cass's ownership. 

"Hey, Jay, d'you remember the manor treehouse?" 

"You're not getting out of this one that easily, Dickie." 

Dick sighs. "Fine, I'll bite. Why are you calling me about Wally?" 

"Because it's obvious." Something _schwings_ on Jason's end, like a blade being drawn. Dick frowns. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Calm down, I'm just doing dishes." Another rattle, which, Dick realises, is cutlery. "And stop dodging the question." 

"There's nothing _obvious_ ," Dick says. He stops to lean against the low railing, debating for a second before he hops up to perch on it, his toes pushing delicately against the ground to keep himself steady. 

"You fled the fucking apartment like you'd been set on fire." Jason briefly runs the water. "And it wasn't because you had to acknowledge my sex life." 

"Can't acknowledge it if it's not real," Dick jokes. "Denial's a hell of a drug." 

Jason barks out a laugh. "It's also not just a river in Egypt." 

And - yeah. Yeah. Dick hangs his head with a sigh. 

"I'm not in denial," he mutters. Jason makes a curious noise in the back of his throat. 

"That's the thing," Dick continues miserably. "I _know_ I - " he can't even bring himself to say it, to _confess_ it, even to someone else entirely. He swallows the words and frowns at his lap. "It's never gonna happen." 

"Why not?" Jason sounds so calm, _unreasonably_ calm, and Dick wants to punch him a little bit because this is _Wally_ he's talking about. His teammate. His partner. His best fucking friend. 

"Because he doesn't feel the same," Dick snaps. Probably irrational, probably too mean, but Jason takes it in stride with another soft, sympathetic noise. 

"You don't know that," Jason says. Dick sighs heavily. 

"I do." Sucks in a breath and pinches the bridge of the nose. "This is _Wally_ we're talking about. If he liked me - like _that_ \- he'd have done something about it already. He's just - " More confident. More outgoing. More direct. Dick's plenty straightforward, but Wally likes to just cut to the chase. 

"I would know by now," he finishes bitterly. 

Jason stays silent for a long moment. The sink runs again, the cutlery shifts, and crockery clinks against metal. Eventually, he hears the plug being pulled, and the water draining in a gargle. 

"Come out tonight," Jason says. Dick blinks dumbly at his shoes. 

" _Out_?" He barely resists the urge to scoff. "You don't do _out_." 

"I do sometimes." The line rustles with fabric before Jason's voice returns, clearer now. "Look, c'mon, it might help." 

"I don't know, Jay." Dick shuts his eyes and tips his head back to feel the sun on his face. "Where?" 

Jason hums. "I can get to Manhattan. What about that club near the tower?" 

" _Jazz_ ," Dick supplies. 

"Yeah, _Jazz_." There's a grin in his voice when he next speaks. "It's Saturday, isn't it?" 

Dick rumbles out a laugh. "Yes, it is." Finds himself grinning as well. "Random discount night." 

Random discount night is, admittedly, always hilarious - it's always a sort of spin-the-wheel decision for who gets 50% their drinks that night, with results like 'all blonds' or 'anyone under six foot'. Dick's a little bit pleased that he just barely counts for the under six foot when the rest of the Titans can't. 

"So c'mon, show your little brother the city action." 

"You expect me to believe you haven't been there before?" Dick pushes off the railing to resume walking, continuing his lap path around the park. 

"Not with you." Jason covers the phone to talk to someone else for a second, then returns. "Okay, I gotta go, but if you want to go out, text me." 

"I'll think about it," Dick promises. "Say hi to Roy for me." 

"Fuck you." A pause. "He says hi back. I'll see you later?" 

"Probably. See ya." 

\-- 

Dick ends up at _Jazz_ that night with Jason. The random discount - plastered on the front door and the bar - is 50% off drinks for redheads, which feels like a cruel joke on the universe's part, but at least Dick doesn't have to worry about measuring his height against Garth. 

"You think they would let me prove I'm actually a redhead?" Jason says to him while they're settling in at a table, beer in a hand. 

"Not unless you can grow a beard in two minutes," Dick replies, popping the cap off and flicking it at Jason. "I'm not letting you get kicked out for flashing someone." 

"I'd _ask_ first," Jason says, neatly catching the cap in his fist. "Anyway, I know that bartender." He points one out at the end, a guy with immaculately gelled hair who looks more like a maître d' than a bartender at an inclusive bar. 

"I'm not gonna ask." Dick tugs on his collar and gestures to Jason's face. "It'd be a hard sell on the eyebrows alone." 

He's not gonna lie, it's pretty fun from there. They nestle into their corner with an order of nachos and dip and sensible glasses of water between beers and just _hang out_ , shooting the shit and laughing over shared stories. They don't touch the dance floor, although Jason threatens to push Dick out there a couple times, and Dick doesn't even _think_ about the Titans. 

He's truly, genuinely enjoying himself, and even goes as far to admit that this was probably a good idea, to get him out of his own head. There's even a few fraught moments where he seriously debates joining the crowd, or at least mingling a little, but it gets shot down in favour of keeping the momentum up with his brother. But mostly, he's having fun, carefree and light, right up until he runs into Wally at the bar while waiting to order his and Jason's next round. 

"I - oh," Dick says uselessly, while Wally stares blankly at him. 

"I...didn't know you were coming out tonight," Wally says. His eyes flick to somewhere over Dick's shoulder and back, lingering for an incriminating moment - Dick turns around to see Roy leaning against the booth seat Jason's at, engrossed in conversation with him. The fucking traitors. 

"Huh," Wally says softly. Dick sighs, but he can't really find it in himself to feel annoyed at them. It's admirable, maybe, this little matchmaking attempt. 

"I was just - getting drinks for us," Dick says lamely. "I guess not anymore." 

"Well, since you're here, let me buy you a drink?" Wally waggles his eyebrows. "I get them half off tonight." 

"Just not my night, huh?" Dick says, smiling back as he slides onto a stool to wait. Might as well talk to Wally, if he's clearly been set up to do so. 

"Getting stuck with me? Must not be." Wally jerks his chin to Roy and Jason in the corner. "I don't think they're exactly planning on joining us up here." 

"I'm gonna take that to mean they're kissing." Dick ruffles a hand through his hair. He feels a little self-conscious, with all of... _this_ suddenly thrust on him, and now he understands why Jason was playfully poking him into wearing something that wasn't a baggy hoodie and loose jeans. 

Not that he's dressed up in any sense of the word, but he found a better fitting pair of jeans and a sensible T-shirt. He even put on _cologne_ , although that was more to cover up the inevitable sweatiness of being in a nightclub. 

Wally, though, oh man. Wally's definitely dressed up. Not significantly, not fancy, but the top three buttons on his shirt are undone, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and every time he shifts, the hem rises just enough to reveal a sliver of skin between buttons and the low slung waist of his jeans. Dick feels dizzy just looking at him, all multiplied tenfold when Wally turns that _grin_ on him, teasing and genuine all at once. 

"There's definitely some of that going on," Wally says. Dick laughs - a little hysterically, to his own ears, but Wally just huffs out a chuckle and leans closer to him. Dick's skin tingles where their forearms press together. 

"I'm starting to regret the jeans," Wally says, unprompted. "Are you hot as well or is that just a me thing?" 

"I think it's a you thing." Yeah, Dick's feeling hot under the collar, but it's not from the temperature. 

"We can always go outside," he offers. Wally glances at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin. 

"I'm good in here," he says, a strange smile playing on his lips. He leans in, just to be able to lower his voice, and Dick's breath snags in his throat. 

"You look nice," Dick adds, his traitorous tongue spilling the words before he can stop himself. 

"The shirt was Roy's idea," Wally says, grimacing at Roy in the distance. Dick huffs a laugh. His eyes linger on the breadth of Wally's shoulders underneath the fabric. He's not wearing an undershirt. That shouldn't affect Dick as much as it does, but it means when Wally leans forward, he can see straight down the front of it, and it makes him want to be downright _irresponsible_. 

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself," Wally adds, his gaze raking over Dick's outfit, if he can even call it that. 

"Jason's idea," Dick deadpans. Wally laughs, a bright, bubbling thing that makes Dick's stomach twist into knots, smooth lines aside. And - _wait_ , smooth lines? 

Dick snaps his gaze to Wally's face. He doesn't know if it's the alcohol or the nerves, but he feels like he's missing a piece of the puzzle here, like they've skipped past normal conversation and landed in another fucking dimension where _Wally_ is using _lines_ on him. He studies Wally's face as carefully as he can, looking for anything telltale in his expression, but Wally's as neutral as a closed book, smiling pleasantly when he settles on his elbows. 

"Hey, since I lost my dance partner, you wanna replace him?" Wally gestures vaguely to Roy in the distance. 

"Dance partner?" Dick raises an eyebrow, but doesn't back away from the intimate space between them. "I think you mean wingman." 

Wally shrugs, his tongue poking out to wet his lower lip. "Don't need one anymore." He glances at Dick, something heavy in his gaze. "I got you." 

Dick hesitates to guess what that means. His skin tingles where his forearm presses against Wally's, squeezed together in the squish of the club. 

The bartender comes by with their drinks, interrupting the moment. Dick glances at Jason and Roy - now fully tucked into the corner, talking with their heads tipped together, low and intimate in the way Jason's hand threads into Roy's hair - and calls off the second drink with an apology before paying for his own. Wally accepts both his shot and Roy's soda, and downs both with a wince. Dick bursts into laughter, watching as Wally rubs his throat and pulls a face. 

"Little too fast there, hotshot?" 

"Oh, you _wish_ I could get drunk," Wally says. 

"I _know_ you can't," Dick laughs, and takes a deep sip of his beer. 

The rest of the conversation sort of flows from there for the next half hour, easy as always with Wally. Jason and Roy never return to them, and Dick doesn't give Jason the satisfaction of glancing back at him. He gamely considers the dance floor when Wally suggests it again, when Dick's beer has long since been emptied and pushed aside for the bartender to recycle, but doesn't quite accept the offer yet. He doesn't know what's stopping him, but he's enjoying just _talking_ to Wally, with nothing complicated or active between them, unlike missions, and if they step on the dance floor, there's a good chance that they'll drift apart in the crowd. 

Or, Dick's more rational brain tells him, a good chance that Wally will actually go do what he clearly _came_ here to do, with the outfit and the cologne and the charm. As it is, he's spent the better part of an hour just sitting here with Dick, talking about anything and everything that's come up, with no sign of stopping. 

Time feels both sluggish and speedy in here; they've veered to a couple different conversation points since, but when Dick checks his phone, he finds it's been over an hour since he came to get drinks for Jason. Oh shit, he should probably - he should _definitely_ maybe let Wally go. (Haha.) 

"Oh, it's - I should - " Dick pockets his phone and gestures vaguely to the dancing crowd. "I should let you - " he gives it up with a sigh. "Look, I'm sorry," he sighs, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

Wally furrows his brows. "Why?" 

"For - this." Dick gestures awkwardly between them, unsure quite how to phrase it. "Look, Jason invited me out, and - " _I think he was just trying to help_ \- "well, I didn't mean to intrude on your night out." 

"In _trude_?" Wally scoffs. "You didn't intrude." 

Dick shoots him a disbelieving look. "Wally, you think I don't recognise when you're trying to get laid? I've known you for _years_." 

Wally ducks his head to look at his glass, turning it in his hands. 

"It wasn't actually my idea to come out tonight," he admits softly. "Roy suggested it." 

"Oh." Dick doesn't know what to make of that. Part of him wants to think Jason somehow urged Roy to get Wally out tonight as well, but the bigger part of him knows Roy wouldn't go along with that plan without knowing exactly _why_ , and - 

"I was trying to forget about someone," Wally continues, staring into his glass. "But it didn't work, so he brought me out here to try again." He wrinkles his nose. "I don't think it'll work." 

Dick _huh_ s in acknowledgement. Wally could get anyone he _wanted_ , Dick's sure of that - already has _him_ head over heels, and that was completely accidental. His curiosity grows by the second, nagging at his mind, looping a track of who the hell is Wally _West_ trying to get over so badly? 

"Who?" He blurts out before he can fucking stop himself. Wally's gaze snaps up to him in an instant, then flicks over his shoulder - Dick glances back again at Roy and Jason, and - oh. _Oh_. Oh, that makes so much _sense_ now, the traded glances during the mission, the hands-on approach - Roy must not _know_. 

"Have you told him?" Dick asks, turning back to Wally. "Or asked him? Because I think - I'm pretty sure he and Jason are _open_ , y'know, and they'd probably - " 

"What?" Wally's eyebrows pinch together hard enough to crease. "No, what - it's not _Roy_ I like." 

Oh. _Oh_. Dick mouths a silent _ah_ and turns his attention to drawing random patterns on the counter. 

"I think...Jason's probably more open to it than you think," he says, and Wally stares at him like he's sprouted a second head. He looks almost offended when Dick raises his eyebrows in confusion, like Dick's speaking in another language entirely. 

"What?" Dick asks. "I don't have any problem with you dating my brother, if that was it." 

To his surprise, Wally puffs out a _laugh_. 

"It wasn't that," he says, then bursts into another bubble of laughter, louder than before. "God, Dick, it _definitely_ wasn't that." 

"Then what?" Dick frowns, thoroughly fucking confused at the turn of events - he was half-expecting Wally to grumble at him about being right, or be miserable over...whoever he's pining for, not - not _laughter_. 

"It's not - " Wally trips over his laughter and hiccups with a giggle, shoulders shaking. Dick's a little worried at the force of it, but Wally just buries his head in his hands and tries his best to power through the words. 

"He's not the right brother," he giggles. 

"Are you okay?" Dick asks. "Walls, what the hell is going on?"

"This is so _stupid_ ," Wally wheezes. "Roy's such a fucking _asshole_." 

"Wh - " 

"He took me here to get my mind off of _you_ ," Wally continues, steamrolling right over his attempted question. "And I thought hey, little strange to come back here so soon but whatever, he might be right. And of _course_ I run into _you_ , and _Jason_ , and they're _bastards_ \- " 

Dick's stomach drops through to his feet, threatening to send him falling off the barstool entirely. He blinks, but it doesn't help, and he's left just _staring_ at Wally through his little monologue. 

" - brought me here to talk to _you_." Wally exhales with another laugh and lifts his head from his hands to suck in a breath and push hair out of his face. Dick stares. Wally leans back on the stool and glances up at the ceiling. 

"And I can't even do that right, because I have no idea what to say," Wally finishes. Dick only remembers to snap his jaw shut when Wally glances at him, worry lines pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

"To me?" Dick feels like he's talking through a mouth suddenly filled with cotton. Wally sighs, his shoulders drooping. 

"Yeah," he admits softly. "Yeah." 

Dick doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know _how_ to say what he's feeling, how to voice the tumult of emotions inside him - disbelief, shock, hope all bouncing around inside him like a restless ping pong ball. 

"Anyway," Wally says, pushing a hand through his hair. "I'm so - " 

"Dance with me." Dick can't hear an apology. An apology would mean they could take this all _back_ , and that's something Dick doesn't dare tempt - knows he can't find the words, knows this would damage their chances more than anything, and - and - and all he has left is action, maybe, to _show_ if he can't tell. 

He grabs Wally's wrist and waits for him to meet his gaze. Wally's eyebrows pull together in something like confusion, something guarded and cautious in his eyes. 

"You don't like dancing," Wally says. Dick tries to swallow down the lump in his throat and leans in just a little closer. 

"No. But you do. And I like you," he says. His tongue feels clumsy in his mouth, clumsier than his breakup talks, and isn't _that_ ironic? The only thing he can do better than pep talks is breaking hearts. 

"Dick, you don't have to - " 

"I _like_ you," Dick repeats, bold with the atmosphere, with the intimacy of the bar. His throat feels raw, scratchy. 

"Dick," Wally whispers, soft and scared and pleading all rolled into one, almost impossible to hear over the music. But Dick would know the shape of his mouth anywhere, would recognise the consonants and vowels and the part and close of his lips even through glass. Knows what Wally looks like saying his name, because he's treasured every time Wally's said it. 

And Dick's throat closes up all the same, impossibility and fragility compounding to render him almost speechless. 

"I'm not - I - " he huffs in frustration at himself, and deliberately loosens his hold on Wally's wrist, tipping his head to the dance floor to communicate. "Let me show you." 

\-- 

Dick pushes all his weight into opening the metal exit door, shivering instinctively at the cool breeze that whips across him, a completely contrast from the dense warmth of the club. 

"Wally!" He calls, not really expecting an answer, but when he glances down the side, there Wally is, leaning against the brick with his head in his hands. 

"Wally," Dick tries again, letting the door fall shut behind him as he walks over. "Walls, hey." 

"Don't," Wally says, dropping his hands to close his eyes and tip his head back against the wall. Dick stops a couple feet away from him. "Look, just - I'm sorry, Dick." 

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Dick says. He reaches out for Wally, then pauses, and on second thought, doesn't. His hand hangs limply by his side instead. 

He doesn't know how it got out of control like that - probably should _expected_ it, honestly, with the close quarters and the pulsing music and the atmosphere. Dancing was nice; it was _really_ nice, and that's probably where Dick went horribly wrong. Half-confession and half-understandings had melted into a respectable foot between them, bopping and shuffling and laughing with the music until the crowd had forced them closer, jostled into each other's space, and - and it was _Dick_ that had put his hands on Wally's hips, but it was Wally that had tugged him in and closed the gap. 

Problem is, _that_ was...that was beyond just _nice_ , then. That was almost filthy, almost sweet, wandering hands and wandering eyes and enough tension to make Dick's blood pressure shoot through the roof. 

He can still taste the tingle of alcohol on his lips from Wally. It was spur of the moment, completely out of blue - well, maybe not _completely_ , with the half-confessions and the proximity, but one second Dick was brushing his mouth against Wally's, and the next there was a _shht!_ of lightning and an inch of space between them, and then more when Wally back-pedalled, eyes wide, and fled. 

It had taken Dick a couple moments to register what exactly had happened, but then he followed, and...here they are. He feels naked, _exposed_ without the atmosphere of the club draping over them like a thick, intimate blanket. Feels a little ridiculous, honestly, like he's just made the biggest, stupidest fool of himself, but if so, then why is _Wally_ apologising? 

"I didn't mean to," Wally says. His hands crackle with lightning when he brings them up to fiddle with his shirt. Nervous. "Fuck." 

"It wasn't just you," Dick says, sharper than he means. Breathes in, out, and tries to relax. "It wasn't - I leaned in for it, too, Wally." 

Wally stays silent for a minute before his eyes open, looking up at the sky. 

"I really didn't mean to," he repeats, softer. "I didn't - I _don't_ want to - I never wanted to pressure you into anything." 

"You didn't," Dick sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You really didn't." Now or never, he guesses, although his heart feels like it's in his throat. "I wanted to. I've - I care about you, Walls. Have for a while." 

Wally turns his head to look at him, his gaze piercing. Dick shivers even though the night is warm, but doesn't break the eye contact. 

"Care about me?" Wally asks. His voice sounds weak, like he's scared of voicing it all the way. Dick looks away with a swallow, an embarrassed blush crawling up his cheeks. His nerves are going haywire underneath his skin, skittish and alert, but he shoves aside the desperate urge to fidget. 

"I meant it. At the bar," he says. 

"I didn't know if you were just _saying_ it," Wally mumbles. "Or trying to - make me _feel_ better, or something - " 

"When I said I was noticing guys more," Dick says, slow and careful. "I...it was mostly you. But you were my teammate, and my best friend, and I didn't want to - fuck up whatever we have." 

Wally exhales, but it seems like he deflates entirely against the brick. Dick squeezes the fabric of his pockets in his fingers just to ground himself. 

"Me, too," Wally admits. "I - I've. I care about you as well." 

Dick carefully steps over to lean on the wall beside Wally, a careful inch of space between them. His head whirls with the confession, elated and dizzy all at the same time, a _whoosh_ of excitement sweeping through his stomach and leaving him empty-headed. 

"I didn't know you felt the same," Wally murmurs. Dick squeezes his eyes shut. 

"I never had a chance to tell you," he replies, equally quietly. 

"I know." 

The breeze ruffles both of them, like it's trying to wash away all the melting doubt and uncertainty. Dick relaxes against the brick, and feels Wally do the same beside him. It feels almost like old times, except now there's so much said between them and nothing resolved - 

"I didn't want our first kiss to be on a dance floor," Wally says. Dick opens his eyes to look over at him, butterflies unfolding in his stomach at the curve of Wally's grin. 

"Where did you want it?" He asks. Wally shrugs. 

"Never thought about it." Wally's grin falters for a second. "I tried to move on. A lot. I didn't want to ruin - _us_." 

Dick licks his lips and bumps his hand against Wally's, opening his fingers. He doesn't realise he's holding his breath until Wally slips his fingers into his palm and squeezes comfortingly. He runs hot, always does, and now it's a grounding warmth against Dick's thudding pulse, against his wreck of a nervous system. 

"Maybe we should," Dick says. "Ruin it." 

Wally's eyes snap to him, green and intense. Dick's never wanted to kiss him more. 

"Ruin it how?" He asks, a smile cutting into his cheek. 

"Kissing me, for one," Dick breathes, tipping his head forwards to rest his forehead against Wally's. 

"And then?" 

"Maybe doing it again." Dick slides a hand up Wally's arm and squeezes fondly. "Just to see if it sticks." 

Wally's fingertips are warm on his cheek, on his jaw, guiding Dick up and in. Dick closes his eyes moments before closing the gap, his heart somersaulting traitorously in his chest; Wally's lips are warmer than his hands, warmer than his breath, soothing and thrilling all at once. Dick's hands drift to Wally's hair, Wally's _arms_ , magnetic, out of his control, and he's sure he doesn't imagine the soft hitch of Wally's breath when he thumbs his jaw. Wally's warm and real and solid and his breath tastes vaguely of passionfruit vodka, and Dick suddenly understands what it's like to let his held flame burn, shiver in his fingertips and swell in his chest and drown out the cold night around them. 

He's not entirely sure this is what Jason and Roy planned, but when he hears the exit door thud open five minutes later and a subsequent chorus of their whooping, he thinks they're probably pretty pleased with themselves, anyway. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi at [halifax-jordan](https://halifax-jordan.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


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